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,20 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


BARRY LYN DON. 


BY 

WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY. 



NEW YORK: 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 
14 and 16 Vesey Street. 

\\VV 





THE MEMOIRS 


OF 

BARRY LYNDON, Esq. 


CHAPTER I. 

MY PEDIGREE AND FAMILY UNDERGO THE INFLUENCE OF THE 

TENDER PASSION. 

Since the days of Adam, there has been hardly a mischief 
done in this world but a woman has been at the bottom of 
it. Ever since ours was a family (and that must be very 7iear 
Adam’s time, — so old, noble, and illustrious are the Barry’s, as 
everybody knows,) women have played a mighty part with the 
destinies of our race. 

I presume that there is no gentleman in Europe that has not 
heard of the house of Barry of Barryogue, of the kingdom of 
Ireland, than which a more famous name is not to be found in 
Gwillim or D’Hozier ; and though, as a man of the world, I 
have learned to despise heartily the claims of some pretenders to 
high birth who have no more genealogy than the lackey who 
cleans my boots, and though I laugh to utter SGorn the boast- 
ing of many of my countrymen, who are all for descending from 
kings of Ireland, and talk of a domain no bigger than would 
feed a pig as if it were a principality; yet truth compels me to 
assert that my family was the noblest of the island, and, per- 
haps, of the universal world ; while their possessions, now in- 
significant, and torn from us by war, by treachery, by the loss 
of time, by ancestral extravagance, by adhesion to the old faith 
and monarch, were formerly prodigious, and embraced many 


8 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


counties, at a time when Ireland was vastly more prosperous 
than now. I would assume the Irish crown over my coat-of- 
arms, but that there are so many silly pretenders to that distinc- 
tion who bear it and render it common. 

Who knows, but for the fault of a woman, I might have been 
wearing* it now ? You start with incredulity. I say, why not? 
Had there been a gallant chief to lead my countrymen, instead 
of puling knaves who bent the knee to King Richard II., they 
might have been freemen \ had there been a resolute leader to 
meet the murderous ruffian Oliver Cromwell, we should have 
shaken off the English for ever. But there was no Barry in the 
field against the usurper ; on the contrary, my ancestor, Simon 
de Bary, came over with the first-named monarch, and married 
the daughter of the then King of Munster, whose sons in 
battle he pitilessly slew. 

In Oliver’s time it was too late for a chief of the name of 
Barry to lift up his war-cry against that of the murderous brewer. 
We were princes of the land no longer ; our unhappy race had 
lost its possessions a century previously, and by the most 
shameful treason. This I know to be the fact, for my mother 
•has often told me the story, and besides had worked it in a 
worsted pedigree which hung up in the yellow saloon at Barry' 
ville where we lived. 

That very estate which the Lyndons now possess in Ireland 
was once the property of my race. Rory Barry of Barryogue 
owned it in Elizabeth’s time, and half Munster beside. The 
Barry was always in fued with the O’Mahony’s in those times ; 
and, as it happened, a certain English colonel passed through 
the former’s country with a body of men-at-arms, on the very 
day when the O’Mahony’s had made an inroad upon our 
territories, and carried off a frightful plunder of our flocks and 
herds. 

This young Englishman, whose name was Roger Lyndon, 
Linden, or Lyndaine, having been most hospitably received by 
the Barry, and finding him just on the point of carrying an in- 
road into the O’Mahonys’ land, offered the aid of himself and 
his lances, and behaved himself so well, as it appeared, that the 
O’Mahonys were entirely overcome, all the Barrys’ property re- 
stored, and with it, says the old chronicle, twice as much of the 
O’Mahonys’ goods and cattle. 

It was the setting-in of the winter season, and the young 
soldier was pressed by the Barry not to quit his house of Barry- 
ogue, and remained there during several months, his men being 
quartered with Barry’s own gallowglasses, man by man in the 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


9 


cottages round about. They conducted themselves, as is their 
wont, with the most intolerable insolence towards the Irish ; so 
much so, that fights and murders continually ensued, and the 
people vowed to destroy them. 

'The Barry’s son (from whom I descend) was as hostile to 
the English as any other man on his domain ; and, as they would 
not go when bidden, he and his friends consulted together and 
determined on destroying these English to a man. 

But they had let a woman into their plot, and this was the 
Barry’s daughter. She was in love with the English Lyndon, 
and broke the whole secret to him ; and the dastardly English 
prevented the just massacre of themselves by falling upon the 
Irish, and destroying Phaudrig Barry, my ancestor, and many 
hundreds of his men. The cross at Barrycross near Carrigna- 
dihioul is the spot where the odious butchery took place. 

Lyndon married the daughter of Roderick Barry, and 
claimed the’estate which he left; and though the descendants 
of Phaudrig were alive, as indeed they are in my person,* on 
appealing to the English courts, the estate was awarded to the 
Englishman, as has ever been the case where English and Irish 
were concerned. 

Thus, had it not been for the weakness of a woman, I should 
have been born to the possession of those very estates which 
afterwards came to me by merit, as you shall hear. But to 
proceed with my family history. 

My father was well known to the best circles in this king- 
dom as in that of Ireland, under the name of Roaring Harry- 
Barry. He was bred like many other young sons of genteel 
families to the profession of the law, being articled to a cele- 
brated attorney of Sackville Street in the city of Dublin ; and, 
from his great genius and aptitude for learning, there is no 
doubt he would have made an eminent figure in his profession, 
had not his social qualities, love of field-sports, and extraordi- 
nary graces of manner, marked him out for a higher sphere. 
While h& was attorney’s clerk he kept seven race-horses, and 
hunted regularly both with the Kildare and Wicklow hunts : 
and rode on his gray horse Endymion that famous matclragainst 
Captain Punter, . which is still remembered by lovers of the 
sport, and of which I caused a splendid picture to be made 
and hung over my dining-hall mantlepiece at Castle Lyndon. 
A year afterwards he had the honor of riding that very horse 


* As we have never been able to find proofs of the marriage of my ancestor Phaudrig 
with his wife, I make no doubt that Lyndon destroyed the contract, and murdered the priesr 
and witnesses of the marriage. — B. L. 


TJIE MEMOIRS OF 


1 o 

Endymion before his late Majesty King George II. at New- 
market, and won the plate there and the attention of the august 
sovereign. 

Although he was only the second son of our family, my dear 
father came naturally into the estate (now miserably reduced to 
400/. a year) ; for my grandfather’s eldest son Cornelius Barry 
(called the Chevalier Borgne, from a wound which he received 
in Germany,) remained constant to the old religion in which 
our family was educated, and not only served abroad with credit, 
but against his most sacred Majesty George II. in the unhappy 
Scotch disturbances in ’45. We shall hear more of the Chev- 
alier hereafter. 

For the conversion of my father I have to thank my dear 
mother, Miss Bell Brady, daughter of Ulysses Brady of Castle 
Brady, county Kerry, Esquire and J. P. She was the most 
beautiful woman of her day in Dublin, and universally called 
the Dasher there. Seeing her at the assembly, my father 
became passionately attached to her ; but her soul was above 
marrying a Papist or an attorney’s clerk ; and so for the love of 
her, the good old laws being then in force, my dear father 
slipped into my uncle Cornelius’s shoes and took the family 
estate. Besides the force of my mother’s bright eyes, several 
persons, and of the genteelest society too, contributed to this 
happy change; and I have often heard my mother laughingly 
tell the story of my father’s recantation, which was solemnly 
pronounced at the tavern in the company of Sir Dick Ringwood, 
Lord Bagwig, Captain Punter, and two or three other young 
sparks of the town. Roaring Harry won 300 pieces that very 
night at faro, and laid the necessary information the next morn- 
ing against his brother; but his conversion caused a coolness 
between him and my uncle Corney, who joined the rebels in 
consequence. 

This great difficulty being settled, my Lord Bagwig lent my 
father his own yacht, then lying at the Pigeon House, and the 
handsome Bell Brady was induced to run away with him to 
England, although her parents were against the match, and her 
lovers (.as I have heard her tell many thousands of times,) were 
among the most numerous and the most wealthy in all the king- 
dom of Ireland. They were married at the Savoy, and my 
grandfather dying very soon, Harry Barry, Esquire, took 
possession of his paternal property and supported our illustrious 
name with credit in London. He pinked the famous Count 
Tiercelin behind Montague House, he was a member of 
“White’s,” and a frequenter of all the chocolate-houses ; and 


BARR Y L YNDON, ESQ. i i 

my mother, likewise, made no small figure. At length, after his 
great day of triumph before his sacred Majesty at Newmarket, 
Harry’s fortune was just on the point of being made, for the 
gracious monarch promised to provide for him. But alas ! he 
was taken in charge by another monarch, whose will will have 
no delay or denial, — by Death, namely, who seized upon my 
father at Chester races, leaving me a helpless orphan. Peace 
be to his ashes ! He was not faultless, and dissipated all our 
princely family property ; but he was as brave a fellow as ever 
tossed a bumper or called a main, and he drove his coach-and- 
six like a man of fashion. 

I do not know whether his gracious Majesty was much af- 
fected by this sudden demise of my father, though my mother 
says he shed some royal tears on the occasion. But they 
helped us to nothing ; and all that was found in the house for 
the wife and creditors was a purse of ninety guineas, which my 
dear mother naturally took, with the family plate, and my 
father’s wardrobe and her own ; and putting them into our 
great coach, drove off to Holyhead, whence she took shipping 
for Ireland. My father’s body accompanied us in the finest 
hearse and plumes money could buy ; for though the husband 
and wife had quarrelled repeatedly in life, yet at my father’s 
death his high-spirited widow forgot all her differences, gave 
him the grandest funeral that had been seen for many a day, 
and erected a monument over his remains (for which I subse- 
quently paid), which declared him to be the wisest, purest, and 
most affectionate of men. 

In performing these sad duties over her deceased lord, the 
widow spent almost every guinea she had, and, indeed, would 
have spent a great deal more, had she discharged one-third of 
the demands which the ceremonies occasioned. But the people 
around our old house of Barryogue, although they did not like 
my father for his change of f^ith, yet stood by him at this mo- 
ment, and were for exterminating the mutes sent by Mr. Plumer 
of London with the lamented remains. The monument and 
vault in the church were then, alas ! all that remained of my 
vast possessions ; for my father had sold every stick of the 
property to one Notley, an attorney, and we received but a 
cold welcome in his house — a miserable old tumbie-down place 
it was.* 

The splendor of the funeral did not fail to increase the 

* In another part of his memoir Mr. Earry will be found to describe this mansion as one 
of the most splendid palaces in Europe ; but this practice is not unusual with his nation ; 
and with respect to the Irish principality claimed by him, it is known that Mr. Barry’s 
grandfather was an attorney and maker cf his own fortune. 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


12 

widow Barry's reputation as a woman of spirit and fashion ; and 
when she wrote to her brother Michael Brady, that worthy gen- 
tleman immediately rode across the country to fling himself into 
her arms, and to invite her in his wife’s name to Castle Brady. 

Mick and Barry had quarrelled, as all men will, and very 
high words had passed between them during Barry’s courtship 
of Miss Bell. When he took her off, Brady swore he would 
never forgive Barry or Beil : but coming to London in the year 
’46, he fell in once more with Roaring Harry, and lived in his 
fine house in Clarges Street, and lost a few pieces to him at 
play, and broke a watchman’s head or two in his company, — 
all of which reminiscences endeared Bell and her son very much 
to the good-hearted gentleman, and he received us both with 
open arms. Mrs. Barry did not, perhaps wisely, at first make 
known to her friends what was her condition ; but arriving in a 
huge gilt coach with enormous armorial bearings, was taken by 
her sister-in-law and the rest of the county for a person of con- 
siderable property and distinction. 

For a time, then, and as was right and proper, Mrs. Barry 
gave the law at Castle Brady. She ordered the servants to and 
fro, and taught them, what indeed .they much wanted, a little 
London neatness ; and “ English Redmond,” as I was called, 
was treated like a little lord, and had a maid and a footman to him- 
self ; and honest Mick paid their wages, — which was much more 
than he was used to do for his own domestics, — doing all in his 
power to make his sister decently comfortable under her afflic- 
tions. Mamma, in return, determined that when her affairs 
were arranged, she would make her kind brother a handsome 
allowance for her son’s maintenance and her own ; and 
promised to have her handsome furniture brought over from 
Clarges Street to adorn the somewhat dilapidated rooms of 
Castle Brady. 

But it turned out that the Rascally landlord seized upon 
every chair and table that ought by rights to have belonged 
to the widow. The estate to which I was heir was in the 
hands of rapacious creditors ; and the only means of sub- 
sistence remaining to the widow and child was a rent-charge of 
50/. upon my Lord Bagwig’s property, who had many turf- 
dealings with the deceased. And so my dear mother’s liberal 
intentions towards her brother were of course never fulfilled. 

It must be confessed, very much to the discredit of Mrs. 
Brady of Castle Brady, that when her sister-in-law’s poverty 
was thus made manifest, she fofgot all the respect which she 
had been accustomed to pay her, instantly turned my maid 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


I 3 


and man-servant out of doors, and told Mrs. Barry that she 
might follow them as soon as she chose. Mrs. Mick was of a 
low family, and a sordid way of thinking ; and after about a 
couple of years (during which she had saved almost all her little 
income) the widow complied with Madam Brady’s desire. At 
the same time, giving way to a just, though prudently dissimu- 
lated resentment, she made a vow that she would never enter 
the gates of Castle Brady while the lady of the house remained 
alive within them. 

She fitted up her new abode with much economy and con- 
siderable taste, and never, for all her poverty, abated a jot of 
the dignity which was her due, and which all the neighbor- 
hood awarded to her. How, indeed, could they refuse respect 
to a lady who had lived in London, frequented the most fash- 
ionable society there, and had been presented (as she solemnly 
declared) at court ? These advantages gave her a right which 
seems to be pretty unsparingly exercised in Ireland by those 
natives who have it, — the right of looking down with scorn 
upon all persons who have not had the opportunity of quitting 
the mother-country and inhabiting England for a while. Thus, 
whenever Madam Brady appeared abroad in a new dress, her 
sister-in-law would say, “ Poor creature ! how can it be expected 
that she should know anything of the fashion ? ” And though 
pleased to be called the handsome widow, as she was, Mrs. Barry 
was still better pleased to be called the English widow. 

Mrs. Brady, for her part, was not slow to reply : she used 
to say that the defunct Barry was a bankrupt and a beggar ; 
and as for the fashionable society which he saw, he saw it from 
my Lord Bagwig’s side-table; whose flatterer and hanger-on he 
was known to be. Regarding Mrs. Barry, the Lady of Castle 
Brady would make insinuations still more painful. However, 
why should we allude to these charges, or rake up private scandal 
of a hundred years old ? It was in the reign of George II. that 
the above-named personages lived and quarrelled ; good or 
bad, handsome or ugly, rich or poor, they are all equal now ; and 
do not the Sunday papers and the courts of law supply us every 
week with more novel and interesting slander? 

At any rate, it must be allowed that Mrs. Barry, after her 
husband’s death and her retirement, lived in such a way as to 
defy slander. For whereas Bell Brady had been the gayest girl 
to the whole county of Wexford, with half the bachelors at her 
feet, and plenty of smiles and encouragement for every one 
of them. Bell Barry adopted a dignified reserve that almost 
amounted to pomposity, and was as starch as any Quakeress 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


H 

Many a man renewed his offers to the widow, who had been 
smitten by the charms of the spinster ; but Mrs. Barry refused 
all offers of marriage, declaring that she lived now for her son 
only, and for the memory of her departed saint. 

“ Saint forsooth ! ” said ill-natured Mrs. Brady. “ Harry 
Barry was as big a sinner as ever was known : and ’tis notorious 
that he and Bell hated each other. If she won’t marry now, 
depend on it, the artful woman has a husband in her eye for all 
that, and only waits until Lord Bagwig is a widower.” 

And suppose she did, what then ? Was not the widow of 
a Barry fit to marry with any lord of England ? and was it not 
always said that a woman was to restore the fortunes of the 
Barry family? If my mother fancied that she was to be that 
woman, I think it was a perfectly justifiable notion on her part ; 
for the earl (my godfather) was always most attentive to her : 
I never knew how deeply this notion of advancing my interests 
in the world had taken possession of mamma’s mind, until his 
lordship’s marriage in the year ’57 with Miss Goldmore, the 
Indian nabob’s rich daughter. 

Meanwhile we continued to reside at Barryville, and, con- 
sidering the smallness of our income, kept up a wonderful state. 
Of the half-dozen families that formed the congregation at 
Brady’s Town, there was not a single person whose appearance 
was so respectable as that of the widow, who, though she always 
dressed in mourning, in memory of her deceased husband, took 
care that her garments should be made so as to set off her 
handsome person to the greatest advantage ; and, indeed, I 
think, spent six hours out of every day in the week in cutting, 
trimming, and altering them to the fashion. She had the largest 
of hoops and the handsomest of furbelows, and once a month 
(under my Lord Bagwig’s cover) would come a letter from Lon- 
don containing the newest accounts of the fashions there. Her 
complexion was so brilliant that she had no call to use rouge, 
as was the mode in those days. No, she left red and white, she 
said (and hence the reader may imagine how the two ladies 
hated each other) to Madam Brady, whose yellow complexion 
no plaster could alter. In a word, she was so accomplished a 
beauty, that all the v/omen in the county took pattern by her, 
and the young fellows from ten miles round would ride over to 
Castle Brady church to have the sight of her. 

But if (like every other woman that ever I saw or read of) 
she was proud of her beauty, to do her justice she was ' till 
more proud of her son, and has said a thousand times to me 
that I was the handsomest young fellow in the world. This h 


BARRY LYNDON \ ESQ, 


J S 


a matter of taste. A man of sixty may, however, say what he 
was at fourteen without much vanity, and I must say I think 
there was . some cause for my mother’s opinion. The good 
soul’s pleasure was to dress me ; and on Sundays and holidays 
[ turned out in a velvet coat with a silver-hilted sword by my 
side and a gold garter at my knee, as fine as any lord in the 
land. My mother worked me several most splendid waistcoats, 
and I had plenty of lace for my ruffles, and a fresh ribbon to 
my hair, and as we walked to church on Sundays, even envious 
Mrs. Brady was found to allow that there was not a prettier 
pair in the kingdom. 

Of course, too, the lady of Castle Brady used to sneer, be- 
cause on these occasions a certain Tim, who used to be called 
my valet, followed me and my mother to church, carrying a 
huge prayer-book and a cane, and dressed in the livery of one 
of our own line footmen from Clarges Street, which, as Tim 
was a bandy-shanked little fellow, did not exactly become him. 
But, though poor, we were gentlefolks, and not to be sneered 
out of these becoming appendages to our rank ; and so would 
march up the aisle to our pew with as much state and gravity 
as the Lord Lieutenant’s lady and son might do. When there, 
my mother would give the responses and amens in a loud, 
dignified voice that was delightful to hear, and, besides, had a 
fine loud voice for singing, which art she had perfected in Lon- 
don under a fashionable teacher ; and she would exercise her 
talent in such a way that you would hardly hear any other voice 
of the little congregation which chose to join in the psalm. 
In fact, my mother had great gifts in every way, and believed 
herself to be one of the most beautiful, accomplished, and 
meritorious persons in the world. Often and often had she 
talked to me and the neighbors regarding her own humility and 
piety, pointing them out in such a way that I would defy the 
most obstinate to disbelieve her. 

When we left Castle Brady we came to occupy a house in 
Brady’s Town, which mamma christened Barry ville. I confess it 
was but a small place, but, indeed, we made the most of it. i 
have mentioned the family pedigree which hung up in the 
drawing-room, which mamma called the yellow saloon, and my 
bedroom was called the pink bedroom, and hers the orange- 
tawny apartment (how well I remember them all !) ; and at 
dinner-time Tim regularly rang a great bell, and we each had a 
silver tankard to drink from, and mother boasted with justice 
that I had as good a bottle of claret by my side as any squire 
of the land. So indeed I had, but I was not, of course, allowed 


i6 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


at my tender years to drink any of the wine ; which thus at- 
tained a considerable age, even in the decanter. 

Uncle Brady (in spite of the family quarrel) found out the 
above fact one day by calling at Barryville at dinner-time, and 
unluckily tasting the liquor. You should have seen how he 
sputtered and made faces ! But the honest gentleman was not 
particular about his wine, or the company in which he drank 
it. He would get drunk, indeed, with the parson or the priest 
indifferently ; with the latter, much to my mother’s indignation, 
for, as a true blue Nassauite, she heartily despised all those of 
the old faith, and would scarcely sit down in the room with a 
benighted Papist. But the squire had no such scruples ; he 
was, indeed, one of the easiest, idlest, and best-natured fellows 
that ever lived, and many an hour would he pass with the 
lonely widow when he was tired of Madam Brady at home. He 
liked me, he said, as much as one of his own sons, and at 
length, after the widow had held out for a couple of years, she 
agreed to allow me to return to the castle ; though, for herself, 
she resolutely kept the oath which she had made with regard 
to her sister-in-law. 

The very first day I returned to Castle Brady my trials may 
be said, in a manner, to have begun. My cousin, Master Mick, 
a huge monster of nineteen (who hated me, and I promise you 
I returned the compliment), insulted me at dinner about my 
mother’s poverty, and made all the girls of the family titter. 
So when we went to the stables, whither Mick always went for 
his pipe of tobacco after dinner, I told him a piece of my mind, 
and there was a fight for at least ten minutes, during which I 
stood to him like a man, and blackened his left eye, though I 
was myself only twelve years old at the time. Of course he 
beat me, but a beating makes only a small impression on a lad 
of that tender age, as I had proved many times in battles with 
the ragged Brady’s Town boys before, not one of whom, at my 
time of life, was my match. My uncle was very much pleased 
when he heard of my gallantry; my cousin Nora brought brown 
paper and vinegar for my nose, and I went home that night 
with a pint of claret under my girdle, not a little proud, let me 
tell you, at having held my own against Mick so long. 

And though he persisted in his bad treatment of me, and 
used to cane me whenever I fell in his way, yet I was very 
happy now at Castle Brady with the company there, and my 
cousins, or some of them, and the kindness of my uncle, with 
whom I became a prodigious favorite. He bought a colt for 
me and taught me to ride. He took me out coursing and 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


*7 

fowling, and. instructed me to shoot flying. And at length I 
was released from Mick’s persecution, for his brother, Master 
Ulick, returning from Trinity College, and hating his elder 
brother, as is mostly the way in families of fashion, took me 
under his protection ; and from that time, as Ulick was a deal 
bigger and stronger than Mick, I, English Redmond, as I was 
called, was left alone ; except when the former thought fit to 
thrash me, which he did whenever he thought proper. 

Nor was my learning neglected in the ornamental parts, for 
I had an uncommon natural genius for many things, and soon 
topped in accomplishments most of the persons around me. I 
had a quick ear and a fine voice, which my mother cultivated 
to the best of her power, and she taught me to step a minuet 
gravely and gracefully, and thus laid the foundation of my 
future success in life. The common dances I learned (as, 
perhaps, I ought not to confess) in the servants’ hall, which, 
you may be sure, was never without a piper, and where I was 
considered unrivalled both at a hornpipe and a jig. 

In the matter of book-learning, I had always an uncommon 
taste for reading plays and novels, as the best part of a gentle- 
man’s polite education, and never let a pedler pass the village, 
if I had a penny, without having a ballad or two from him. As 
for your dull grammar, and Greek and Latin and stuff, I have 
always hated them from my youth upwards, and said, very un- 
mistakably, I would have none of them. 

This I proved pretty clearly at the age of thirteen, when 
my aunt Biddy Brady’s legacy of 100/. came in to mamma, who 
thought to employ the sum on my education, and sent me to 
Dr. Tobias Tickler’s famous academy at Ballywhacket — Back- 
whacket, as my uncle used to call it. But six weeks after I had 
been consigned to his reverence, I suddenly made my appear- 
ance again at Castle Brady, having walked forty miles from the 
odious place, and left the doctor in a state near upon apo- 
plexy. The fact was, that at taw, prison-bars, or boxing, I was 
at the head of the school, but could not be brought to excel in 
the classics ; and after having been flogged seven times with- 
out its doing me the least good in my Latin, I refused to submit 
altogether (finding it useless), to an eighth application of the 
rod. “Try some other way, sir,” said I, when he was for 
horseing me once more ; but he wouldn’t ; whereon, and to de- 
fend myself, I flung a slate at him, and knocked down a Scotch 
usher with a leaden inkstand. All the lads huzzaed at this, 
and some of the servants wanted to stop me ; but taking out a 
large clasp-knife that my cousin Nora had given me, I swore 


i8 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


I would plunge it into the waistcoat of the first man who 
dared to baulk me, and faith they let me pass on. I slept that 
night twenty miles off Ballywhacket, at the house of a cottier, 
who gave me potatoes and milk, and to whom I gave a hun- 
dred guineas after, when I came to visit Ireland in my days of 
greatness. I wish I had the money now. But what’s the use 
of regret ? I have had many a harder bed than that I shall 
sleep on to-night, and many a scantier meal than honest Phil 
Murphy gave me on the evening I ran away from school. So 
six weeks was all the schooling I ever got. And I say this to 
let parents know the value of it; for though I have met more 
learned bookworms in the world, especially a great hulking, 
clumsy, blear-eyed old doctor, whom they call Johnson, and 
who lived in a court off Fleet Street, in London, yet I pretty 
soon silenced him in an argument (at Button’s Coffee-house”); 
and in that, and in poetry, and what I call natural philosophy, 
or the science of life, and in riding, music, leaping, the small- 
sword, the knowledge of a horse, or a main of cocks, and the 
manners of an accomplished gentleman and a man of fashion, 
1 may say for myself that Redmond Barry has seldom found 
his equal. “ Sir,” said I to Mr. Johnson, on the occasion I 
allude to — he was accompanied by a Mr. Buswell of Scotland, 
and I was presented to the club by a Mr. Goldsmith, a coun- 
tryman of my own, — “ Sir,” said I, in reply to the school- 
master’s great thundering quotation in Greek, “ you fancy you 
know a great deal more than me, because you quote your Aris- 
totle and your Pluto, but can you tell me which horse will win 
at Epsom Downs next week ? — Can you run six miles without 
breathing ? — Can you shoot the ace of spades ten times with- 
out missing ? If so, talk about Aristotle and Pluto to me.” 

“ D’ye knaw who ye’re speaking to ? ” roared out the 
Scotch gentleman, Mr. Buswell, at this. 

u Hold your tongue, Mr. Boswell,” said the old schoolmaster. 
“ I had no right to brag of my Greek to the gentleman, and he 
has answered me very well.” 

“ Doctor,” says I, looking waggishly at him, “do you know 
ever a rhyme for Aristotle?” 

“ Port, if you plaise,” says Mr. Goldsmith, laughing. And 
we had six rhymes for A?'istotle before we left the coffee-house 
that evening. It became a regular joke afterwards when I told 
the story, and at “ White’s ” or the “ Cocoa-tree ” you would 
hear the wags say, “ Waiter, bring one of Captain Barry’s rhymes 
for Aristotle.” Once, when I was in liquor at the latter place, 
young Dick Sheridan called me a great Staggerite, a joke which 


BARRY L YNDON, ESQ. 


r 9 

I could never understand. But I am wandering from my story, 
and must get back to home, and dear old Ireland again. 

I have made acquaintance with the best in the land since, 
&nd my manners are such, I have said, as to make me the 
equal of them all ; and, perhaps, you will wonder how a coun- 
try boy, 'as I was, educated amongst Irish squires, and their 
dependants of the stable and farm, should arrive at possessing 
such elegant manners as I was indisputably allowed to have. I 
had, the fact is, a very valuable instructor in the person of an 
old gamekeeper, who had served the French king at Fonte- 
noy, and who taught me the dances and customs, and a smat- 
tering of the language of that country, with the use of the 
sword, both small and broad. Many and many a long mile I 
have trudged by his side as a lad, he telling me wonderful stories 
of the French king, and the Irish brigade, and Marshal Saxe, 
and the ^>pera-dancers ; he knew my uncle, too, the Chevalier 
Borgne, and indeed had a thousand accomplishments which 
he taught me in secret. I never knew a man like him for mak- 
ing or throwing a fly, for physicking a horse, or breaking, or 
choosing one ; he taught me manly sports, from birds’-nesting 
upwards, and I always shall consider Phil Purcell as the very 
best tutor I could have had. His fault was drink, but for that 
I have always had a blind eye ; and he hated my cousin Mick 
like poison ; but I could excuse him that too. 

With Phil, and at the age of fifteen, I was a more accom- 
plished man than either of my cousins ; and I think Nature had 
been also more bountiful to me in the matter of person. Some 
of the Castle Brady girls (as you shall hear presently) adored 
me. At fairs and races many of the prettiest lasses present 
said they would like to have me for their bachelor ; and yet 
somehow, it must be confessed, I was not popular. 

In the first place every one knew I was bitter poor ; and I 
think, perhaps, it was my good mother’s fault that I was bitter 
proud too. I had a habit of boasting in company of my birth, 
and the splendor of my carriages, gardens, cellars, and domes- 
tics, and this before people who were perfectly aware of my 
real circumstances. If it was boys, and they ventured to 
sneer, I would beat them, or die for it ; and many’s the time 
I’ve been brought home wellnigh killed by one or more of 
them, on what, when my mother asked me, I would say was 
“ a family quarrel.” a Support your name with your blood, 
Reddy my boy,” would that saint say, with the tears in her 
eyes ; and so would she herself have done with her voice, ay, 
and her teeth and nails. 


20 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


Thus, at fifteen, there was scarce a lacl of twenty, for half- 
a-dozen miles round, that I had not beat for one cause or 
other. There were the vicar’s two sons of Castle Brady — in 
course I could not associate with such beggarly brats as them, 
and many a battle did we have as to who should take the wall 
in Brady’s Town ; there was Pat Lurgan, the blacksmith’s son, 
who had the better of me four times before we came to the 
crowning fight, when I overcame him ; and I could mention a 
score more of my deeds of prowess in that way, but that fisti- 
cuff facts are dull subjects to talk of, and to discuss before 
high-bred gentlemen and ladies. 

However, there is another subject, ladies, on which I must 
discourse, and that is never out of place. Day and night you 
like to hear of it ; young and old, you dream and think of it. 
Handsome and ugly (and, faith before fifty I never saw such a 
a thing as a plain woman), it’s the subject next to t4e hearts 
of all of you ; and I think you guess my riddle without more 
trouble. Love ! sure the word is formed on purpose out of the 
prettiest soft vowels and consonants in the language, and he 
or she who does not care to read about it is not worth a fig, to 
my thinking. 

My uncle’s family consisted of ten children ; who, as is the 
custom in such large families, were divided into two camps, or 
parties ; the one siding with their mamma, the other taking the 
part of my uncle in all the numerous quarrels which arose be- 
tween that gentleman and his lady. Mrs. Brady’s faction was 
headed by Mick, the eldest son, who hated me so, and disliked 
his father for keeping him out of his property : while Ulick, the 
second brother, was his father’s own boy ; and, in revenge, 
Master Mick was desperately afraid of him. I need not men- 
tion the girls’ names ; I had plague enough with them in after- 
life, heaven knows ; and one of them was the cause of all my 
early troubles : this was (though to be sure all her sisters denied 
it) the belle of the family, Miss Honoria Brady by name. 

She said she was only nineteen at the time ; but I could read 
the fly-leaf in the family Bible as well as another (it was one of 
the three books which, with the backgammon-board, formed my 
uncle’s library), and know that she was born in the year ’37, and 
christened by Dr. Swift, dean of St. Patrick’s, Dublin ; hence 
she was three-and-twenty years old at the time she and I were 
so much together. 

When I come to think about her now, I know she never could 
have been handsome ; for her figure was rather of the fattest, 
and her mouth of the widest ; she was freckled over like a par- 


BARR Y L YNDONy ESQ. 


21 

tridge’s egg, and her hair was the color of a certain vegetable 
which we eat with boiled btef, to use the mildest term. Often 
and often would my dear mother make these remarks concerning 
her ; but I did not believe them then, and somehow had gotten 
to think Honoria an angelical being, far above all the other 
angels of her sex. 

As we know very well that a lady who is skilled in dancing 
or singing never can perfect herself without a deal of study in 
private, and that the song or the minuet which is performed with 
so much graceful ease in the assembly-room has not been 
acquired without vast labor and perseverance in private ; so it 
is with the dear creatures who are skilled in coquetting. Honoria, 
for instance, was always practising, and she would take poor me 
to rehearse her accomplishment upon ; or the exciseman, when 
he came his rounds, or the steward, or the poor curate, or the 
young apothecary’s lad from Brady’s Town : whom I recollect 
beating once for that very reason. 'If he is alive now I make 
him my apologies. Poor fellow ! as if it was his fault that 
he should be a victim to the wiles of one of the greatest co- 
quettes (considering her obscure life and rustic breeding) in the 
world. 

If the truth must be told — and every word of this narrative 
of my life is of the most sacred veracity — my passion for Nora be- 
gan in a very vulgar and unromantic way. I did not save her life ; 
on the contrary, I once very nearly killed her, as you shall hear. 
I did not behold her by moonlight playing on the guitar, or 
rescue her from the hands of ruffians, as Alfonso does Lindamira 
in the novel ; but one day after dinner at Brady’s Town, in 
summer, going into the garden to pull gooseberries for my des- 
sert, and thinking only of gooseberries, I pledge my honor, I 
came upon Miss Nora and one of her sisters, with whom she 
was friends at the time, who were both engaged in the very 
same amusement. 

“ What’s the Latin for gooseberry, Redmond ? ” says she. 
She was always “poking her fun,” as the Irish phrase it. 

“ I know the Latin for goose,” says I. 

“ And .what’s that ? ” cries Miss Mysie, as pert as a peacock. 

“ Bo to you ! ” says I (for I had never a want of wit) ; and 
so we fell to work at the gooseberry-bush, laughing and talking 
as happy as might be. In the course of our diversion Nora 
managed to scratch her arm, and it bled, and she screamed, and 
it was mighty round and white, and I tied it up, and I believe 
was permitted to kiss her hand ; and though it was as big and 
clumsy a hand as ever you saw, yet I thought the favor the 


22 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


most ravishing one that was ever conferred upon me, and went 
home in a rapture. 

I was much too simple a fellow to disguise any sentiment I 
chanced to feel in those days ; and not one of the eight Castle 
Brady girls but was soon aware of my passion, and joked and 
complimented Nora about her bachelor. 

The torments of jealousy the cruel coquette made me en- 
dure were horrible. Sometimes she would treat me as a child, 
sometimes as a man. She would always leave me if ever there 
came a stranger to the house. 

“ For after all, Redmond,” she would say, “you are but 
fifteen, and you hav’n’t a guinea in the world.” At which I 
would swear that I would become the greatest hero ever known 
out of Ireland, and vow that before I was twenty I would have 
money enough to purchase an estate six times as big as Castle 
Brady. All which vain promises, of course, I did not keep ; 
but 1 make no doubt they influenced me in my very early life, 
and caused me to do those great actions for which I have been 
celebrated, and which shall be narrated presently in order. 

I must tell one of them, just that my dear young lady read- 
ers may know what sort of a fellow Redmond Barry was, and 
what a courage and undaunted passion he had. I question 
whether any of the jenny-jessamines of the present day would 
do half as much in the face of danger. 

About this time, it must be premised, the United Kingdom 
was in a state of great excitement from the threat generally 
credited of a French invasion. The Pretender was said to be in 
high favor at Versailles, a descent upon Ireland was especially 
looked to, and the noblemen and people of condition in that and 
all other parts of the kingdom showed their loyalty by raising 
regiments of horse and foot tp resist the invaders. Brady’s 
Town sent a company to join the Kiiwangan regiment, of which 
Master Mick was the captain ; and we had a letter from Master 
Ulick at Trinity College, stating that the university had also 
formed a regiment, in which he had the honor to be a corporal. 
How I envied them both ! especially that odious Mick, as I saw 
him in his laced scarlet coat, with a ribbon in his hat,- march off 
at the head of his men. He, the poor spiritless creature, was a 
captain, and I nothing, — I who felt I had as much courage as 
the Duke of Cumberland himself, and felt, too, that a red jacket 
would mightily become me ! My mother said I was too young 
to join the new regiment ; but the fact was, that it was she her- 
self who was too poor, for the cost of a new uniform would have 
swallowed up half her year’s income, and she would only have 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


2 3 


her boy appear in a way suitable to his birth, riding the finest 
of racers, dressed in the best of clothes, and keeping the gen- 
teelest of company. 

Well, then, the whole country was alive with war’s alarums, 
the three kingdoms ringing with military music, and every man 
of merit paying his devoirs at the court of Bellona, whilst poor 
I was obliged to stay at home in my fustian jacket, and sigh for 
fame in secret. Mr. Mick came to and fro from the regiment, 
and brought numerous of his comrades with him. Their costume 
and swaggering airs filled me with grief, and Miss Nora’s un- 
varying attentions to them served to make me half wild. No 
one, however, thought of attributing this sadness to the young 
lady’s score, but rather to my disappointment at not being al- 
lowed to join the military profession. 

Once the officers of the Fencibles gave a grand ball at Kil- 
wangan, to which, as a matter of course, all the ladies of Castle 
Brady (and a pretty ugly coachful they were) were invited. I 
knew to what tortures the odious little flirt of a' Nora would put me 
with Ter eternal coquetries with the officers, and refused for a 
long time to be one of the party to the ball. But she had a 
way of conquering me, against which all resistance of mine was 
in vain. She vowed that riding in a coach always made her ill. 
“ And how can I go to the ball,” said she, 44 unless you take me 
on Daisy behind you on the pillion ? ” Daisy was a good blood 
mare of my uncle’s, and to such a proposition I could not for 
my soul say no ; so we rode in safety to Kilwangan, and I felt 
myself as proud as any prince when she promised to dance a 
country-dance with me. 

When the dance was ended, the little ungrateful flirt in- 
formed me that she had quite forgotten her engagement ; she 
had actually danced the set with an Englishman ! I have en- 
dured torments in my life, but none like that. She tried to 
make up for her neglect, but I would not. Some of the pretti- 
est girls there offered to console me, for I was the best dancer 
in the room. I made one attempt, but was too wretched to con- 
tinue, and so remained alone all night in a state of agony. I 
would have played, but I had no money ; only the gold piece 
that my mother bade me always keep in my purse as a gentle 
man should. I did not care for drink, or know the dreadful 
comfort of it in those days ; but I thought of killing myseli 
and Nora, and most certainly of making away with Captaiu 
Quin ! 

At last, and at morning, the ball was over. The rest of on* 
ladi-eswent off in the lumbering creaking old coach : Daisy was 


24 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


brought out, and Miss Nora took her place behind me, which 1 
let her do without a word. But we were not half a mile out of 
town when she began to try with her coaxing and blandishments 
to dissipate my ill-humor. 

“ Sure it’s a bitter night, Redmond dear, and you’ll catch 
cold without a handkerchief to your neck.” To this sympa- 
thetic remark from the pillion, the saddle made no reply. 

“ Did you and Miss Clancy have a pleasant evening, Red- 
mond ? You were together, I saw, all night.” To this the 
saddle only replied by grinding his teeth, and giving a lash to 
Daisy. 

“ O mercy ! you make Daisy rear and throw me, you care- 
less creature you : and you know, Redmond, I’m so timid.” 
The pillion had by this got her arm round the saddle’s waist, 
and perhaps gave it the gentlest squeeze in the world. 

“ I hate Miss Clancy, you know I do ! ” answers the saddle ; 
“ and I only danced with her because — because — the person 
with whom I intended to dance chose to be engaged the whole 
night.” 

“ Sure there were my sisters,” said the pillion, now laughing 
outright in the pride of her conscious superiority ; “ and for me, 
my dear, I had not been in the room five minutes before I was 
engaged for every single set.” 

“ Were you obliged to dance five times with Captain Quin ? ” 
said I ; and O strange delicious charm of coquetry, I do believe 
Miss Nora Brady at twenty-three years of age felt a pang of 
delight in thinking that she had so much power over a guileless 
lad of fifteen. 

Of course she replied that she did not care a fig for Captain 
Quin : that he danced prettily, to be sure, and was a pleasant 
rattle of a mail ; that he looked well in his regimentals too ; 
and if he chose to ask her to dance, how could she refuse him ? 

“ But you refused me, Nora.” 

“ Oh ! I can dance with you any day,” answered Miss Nora, 
with a toss of her head ; and to dance with your cousin at a 
ball, looks as if you could find no other partner. Besides,” 
said Nora — and this was a crue 1 unkind cut, which showed 
what a power she had over me, and how mercilessly she used 
it, — “ besides, Redmond, Captain Quin’s a man, and you are 
only a boy ! ” 

“ If ever I meet him again,” I roared out with a oath, “ you 
shall see which is the best man of the two. I'll fight him with 
sword or with pistol, captain as he is. A man indeed ! I’ll fight 
any man — every man ! Didn’t I stand up to Mick Brady when 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


2 5 


T was eleven years old ? — Didn’t I beat Tom Sullivan, the great 
hulking brute, who is nineteen ? — Didn’t I do for the Scotch 
usher ? Oh, Nora, it’s cruel of you to sneer at me so ! ” 

But Nora was in the sneering mood that night, and pursued 
her sarcasms ; she pointed out that Captain Quin was already 
known as a valiant soldier, famous as a man of fashion in 
London, and that it was mighty well of Redmond to talk and 
boast of beating ushers and farmers’ boys, but to fight an 
Englishman was a very different matter.. 

Then she fell to talk of the invasion, and of military matters 
in general ; of King Frederick (who was called, in those days, 
the Protestant hero), of Monsieur Thurot and his fleet, of Mon- 
sieur Conflans and his squadron, of Minorca, how it was at- 
tacked, and where it was ; we both agreed it must be in America, 
and hoped the French might be soundly beaten there. 

I sighed after a while (for I was beginning to melt), and 
said how much I longed to be a soldier ; on which Nora re- 
curred to her infallible, “ Ah ! now, would you leave me, then ? 
But, sure, you’re not big enough for anything more than a little 
drummer.” To which I replied, by swearing that a soldier I 
would be, and a general too. 

As we were chattering in this .silly way, we came to a place 
that has ever since gone by the name of Redmond’s Leap 
Bridge. It was an old high bridge, over a stream sufficiently 
deep and rocky, and as the mare Daisy with her double load 
was crossing this bridge, Miss Nora, giving a loose to her imag- 
ination, and still harping on the military theme (I would lay 
a wager that she was thinking of Captain Quin) — Miss Nora 
said, “ Suppose now, Redmond, you, who are such a hero, was 
passing over the bridge, and the inimy on the other side ? ” 

“ I’d draw my sword, and cut my way through them.” 

“ What, with me on the pillion ? Would you kill poor me ? ” 
(This young lady was perpetually speaking of “ poor me ! ”) 

“ Well, then, I’ll tell you what I’d do. I’d jump Daisy into 
the river, and swim you both across, where no ^enemy could 
follow us.” 

“ Jump twenty feet ! you would’t dare to do any such thing 
on Daisy. There’s the captain’s horse, Black George, I’ve 

heard say that Captain Qui ” 

She never finished the word, for maddened by the continual 
recurrence of that odious monosyllable, I shouted to her to 
“ hold tight by my waist,” and, giving Daisy the spur, in a 
minute sprung with Nora over the parapet into the deep water 
below I don’t know why, now — whether it was I wanted to 


26 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


drown myself and Nora, or to perform an act that even Captain 
Quin should crane at, or whether I fancied that the enemy 
actually was in front of us, I can’t tell now ; but over I went. 
The horse sunk over his head, the girl screamed as she sunk 
and screamed as she rose, and I landed her, half fainting, 
on the shore, where we were soon found by my uncle’s people, 
who returned on hearing the screams. I went home, and was 
ill speedily of a fever, which kept me to my bed for six weeks ; 
and I quitted my couch prodigiously increased in stature, and, 
at the same time, still more violently in love than I had been 
even before. 

At the commencement of my illness, Miss Nora had been 
pretty constant in her attendance at my bedside, forgetting, for 
the sake of me, the quarrel between my mother and her family ; 
which my good mother was likewise pleased, in the most Chris- 
tian manner, to forget. And, let me tell you, it was no small 
mark of goodness in a woman of her haughty disposition, who, 
as a rule, never forgave anybody, for- my sake to give up her 
hostility to Miss Brady, and to receive her kindly. For, like a 
mad boy as I was, it was Nora I was always raving about and 
asking for ; I would only accept medicines from her hand, and 
would look rudely and sulkilyupon the good mother, who loved 
me better than anything else in the world, and gave up even 
her favorite habits, and proper and becoming jealousies, to 
make me happy. 

As I got well, I saw that Nora’s visits became daily more 
rare : “ Why don’t she come ? ” I would say, peevishly, a dozen 
times during the day; in reply to which query, Mrs. Barry 
would be obliged to make the best excuses she could find,— 
such as that Nora had sprained her ankle, or that they had 
quarrelled together, or some other answer to soothe me. And 
many a time has the good soul left me to go and break her 
heart in her own room alone, and come back with a smiling 
face, so that I should know nothing of her mortification. Nor, 
indeed, did f take much pains to ascertain it : nor should I, I 
fear, have been very much touched even had I discovered it ; 
for the commencement of manhood, I think, is the period of 
our extremest selfishness. We get such a desire then to take 
wing and leave the parent nest, that no tears, entreaties, or 
feelings of affection, will counterbalance this overpowering 
longing after independence. She must have been very sad, 
that poor mother of mine — heaven be good to her ! — at that 
period of my life ; and has cften told me since what a pang of 
the heart it was to her to see all her care and affection of years 


BARRY L YNDONy ESQ. 


2 7 


forgotten by me in a minute, and for the sake of a little heart' 
less jilt, who was only playing with me while she could get no 
better suitor. For the fact is, that during the last four weeks 
of my illness, no other than Captain Quin was staying at Castle 
Brady, and making love to Miss Nora in form. My mother 
did not dare to break this news to me, and you may be sure 
that Nora herself kept it a secret : it was only by chance that 
I discovered it. 

Shall I tell you how ? The minx had been to see me one 
day, as I sat up in my bed, convalescent ; she was in such high 
spirits, and so gracious and kind to me, that my heart poured 
over with joy and gladness, and I had even for my poor 
mother a kind word and a kiss that morning. I felt myself 
so well that I ate up a whole chicken, and promised my uncle, 
who had come to see me, to be ready against partridge-shoot- 
ing, to accompany him, as my custom was. 

The next day but one was a Sunday, and I had a project 
for that day which I determined to realize, in spite of all the 
doctor’s and my mother’s injunctions : which were that I was 
on no account to leave the house, for the fresh air would be 
the death of me. 

Well, I lay wondrous quiet, composing a copy of verses, the 
first I ever made in my life ; and I give them here, spelt as I 
spelt them in those days when I knew no better. And though 
they are not so polished and elegant as “Ardelia, ease a 
Love-sick Swain,” and “When Sol bedecks the Daisied Mead,” 
and other lyrical effusions of mine which obtained me so much 
reputation in after life, I still think them pretty good for a 
humble lad of fifteen : — 

THE ROSE OF FLORA. 

Sait by a Young Gentleman of Quality to Miss Br — dy, of Castle Brady . 

On Brady’s tower there grows a flower, 

It is the loveliest flower that blows, — 

At Castle Brady there lives a lady, 

(And how I love her no one knows) ; 

Her name is Nora, and the goddess Flora 
Presents her with this blooming rose. 

“ Q Lady Nora,” says the goddess Flora, 

“ I’ve many a rich and bright parterre ; 

In Brady’s towers there’s seven more flowers^ 

But you’re the fairest lady there : 

Not all the county, nor Ireland’s bounty, 

Can projuice a treasure that’s half so fair!"' 


*8 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


*• What cheek is redder ? sure roses fed her / 

Her hair is maregolds, and her eye of blew 
Beneath her eyelid is like the vi’let, 

That darkly glistens with gentle jew ! 

The lily’s nature is not surely whiter 
Than Nora’s neck is, — and her arrums too. 

“Come, gentle Nora,” says the goddess Flora, 

“ Mv dearest creature, take m * advice, 

There is a poet, full well you know it, 

Who spends his life-time in heavy sighs, — 

Young Redmond Barry ’tis him you’ll marry, 

If rhyme and raisin you’d choose likewise.” 

On Sunday, no sooner was my mother gone to church, than 
I summoned Phil the Yalet, and insisted upon his producing 
my best suit, in which I arrayed myself (although I found that 
I had shot up so in my illness that the old dress was wofully 
too small for me), and, with my notable copy of verses in my 
hand, ran down towards Castle Brady, bent upon beholding 
my beauty. The air was so fresh and bright, and the birds 
sang so loud amidst the green trees, that I felt more elated 
than I had been for months before, and sprung down the 
avenue (my uncle had cut down every stick of the trees, by the 
way) as brisk as a young fawn. My heart began to thump as 
I mounted the grass-grown steps of the terrace, and passed 
in by the rickety hall-door. The master and mistress were at 
church, Mr. Screw the butler told me, (after giving a start back 
at seeing my altered appearance, and gaunt, lean figure,) and 
so were six of the young ladies. 

“ Was Miss Nora one ? ” I asked. 

“ No, Miss Nora was not one,” said Mr. Screw, assuming 
a very puzzled, and yet knowing look. 

“ Where was she ? ” To this question he answered, or 
rather made believe to answer, with usual Irish ingenuity, and 
left me to settle whether she was gone to Kinwangan on the 
pillion behind her brother, or whether she and her sister nad 
gone for a walk, or whether she was ill in her room ; and while 
I was settling this query, Mr. Screw left me abruptly. 

I rushed away to the back court, where the castle Brady 
stables stand, and there 1 found a dragoon whistling the u Roast 
Beef of Old England,” as he cleaned down a cavaliy horse. 
“ Whose horse, fellow, is that ? ” cried I. “ Feller indeed ! ’ 
replied the Englishman : “ the horse belongs to my captain, 
and he’s a better feller nor you any day.” 

I did not stop to break his bones, as I would on another 
occasion, for a horrible suspicion had come across me, and I 
made for the garden as quickly as I could. 


BARR Y L YNDON, ESQ. 


29 


I knew somehow what I should see there. I saw Captain 
Quin and Nora pacing the alley together. Her arm was under 
his, and the scoundrel was fondling and squeezing the hand 
which lay closely nestling against his odious waistcoat. Some 
distance beyond them was Captain Fagan of the Kilwangan 
regiment, who was paying court to Nora’s sister Mysie. 

I am not afraid of any man or ghost ; but as I saw that 
sight my knees fell a-trembling violently under me, and such a 
sickness came over me, that I was fain to sink down on the 
grass by a tree against which I leaned, and lost almost all 
consciousness for a minute or two ; then I gathered myself 
up, and, advancing towards the couple on the walk, loosened 
the blade of the little silver-hilted hanger I always wore in its 
scabbard ; for I was resolved to pass it through the bodies of 
the delinquents, and spit them like two pigeons. I don’t tell 
what feelings else besides those of rage were passing through 
my mind ; what bitter blank disappointment, what mad wild 
despair, what a sensation as if the whole world was tumbling 
from under me ; I make no doubt that my reader hath been 
jilted by the ladies many times, and so bid him recall his own 
sensations when the shock first fell upon him. 

“No, Norelia,” said the Captain (for it was the fashion of 
those times for lovers to call themselves by the most romantic 
names out of novels), “ except for you and four others, I vow 
before all the gods, my heart has never felt the soft flame ! ” 

“ Ah ! you men, you men, Eugenio ! ” said she (the beast’s 
name was John), “your passion is not equal to ours. We are 
like — like some plant I’ve read of — we bear but one flower and 
then we die ! ” 

“ Do you mean you never felt an inclination for another ? ” 
said Captain Quin. 

“ Never, my Eugenio, but for thee ! How can you ask a 
blushing nymph such a question ? ” 

“ Darling Norelia ! ” said he, raising her hand to his lips. 

I had a knot of cherry-colored ribbons, which she had 
given me out of her breast, and which somehow I always wore 
upon me. I pulled these out of my bosom, and flung them in 
Captain Quin’s face, and rushed out with my little sword 
drawn, shrieking, “ She’s a liar — she’s a liar, Captain Quin ! 
Draw, sir, and defend yourself, if you are a man ! ” and with 
these words I leapt at the monster and collared him, while 
Nora made the air echo with her screams ; at the sound of 
which the other captain and Mysie hastened up. 

Although I sprung up like a weed in my illness, and was now 


30 


. THE MEMOIRS OF 


nearly attained to my full growth of six feet, yet I was but a lath 
by the side of the enormous English captain, who had calves and 
shoulders such as no chairman at Bath ever boasted. He 
turned very red, and then exceedingly pale at my attack upon 
him, and slipped back and clutched at his sword — when Nora, 
in an agony ol terror, flung herself round him, screaming, “ Eu- 
genio ! Captain Quin, for heaven’s sake spare the child— he is 
but an infant.” 

“ And ought to be whipped for his impudence,” said the 
captain ; “ but never fear, Miss Brady, I shall not touch him : 
your favorite is safe from me.” So saying, he stooped down 
and picked up the bunch of ribbons which had fallen at Nora’s 
feet, and handing it to her, said in a sarcastic tone, “When 
ladies make presents to gentlemen, it is time for other gentlemen 
to retire.” 

“ Good heavens, Quin ! ” cried the girl ; “ he is but a boy.” 

“ I’m a man,” roared I, “and will prove it.” 

“ And don’t signify any more than my parrot or lap-dog. 
Mayn’t I give a bit of ribbon to my own cousin ? ” 

“ You are perfectly welcome, Miss,” continued the captain, 
“ as many yards as you like.” 

“Monster! ” exclaimed the dear girl ; “your father was a 
tailor, and you are always thinking of the shop. But I’ll have 
my revenge, I will ! Reddy, will you see me insulted ? ” 

Indeed, Miss Nora,” says I, “ I intend to have his blood as 
sure as my name’s Redmond.” 

“I’ll send for the usher to cane you, little boy,” said the 
captain, regaining his self-possession ; “ but as for you, miss, I 
have the honor to wish you a good-day.” 

He took off his hat with much ceremony, made a low conge , 
and was just walking off, when Mick, my cousin, came up, 
whose ear had likewise been caught by the scream. 

“ Hoity — toity ! Jack Quin, what’s the matter here ? ” says 
Mick; “Nora in tears, Redmond’s ghost here with his sword 
drawn, and you making a bow ? ” 

“ I 11 tell you what it is, Mr. Brady,” said the Englishman : 
“ I have had enough of Miss Nora, here, and your Irish ways. 
I ain’t used to ’em, sir.” 

“ Well, well ! what is it ? ” said Mick, good-humoredly (for 
he owed Quin a great deal of money as it turned out); “we’ll 
make you used to our ways, or adopt English ones.” 

“ It’s not the English way for ladies to have two lovers ” 
(the “Henglish way,” as the captain called it), “and so Mr. 
Brady, I’ll thank you to pay me the sum you owe me, and I 


BARRY LYNDON , ESQ. 


31 


resign ail claims to this young lady. If she has a fancy for 
schoolboys, let her take ’em, sir.” 

“ Pooh, pooh ! Quin, you are joking,” said Mick. 

“ I never was more in earnest,” replied the other. 

“ By heaven, then, look to yourself ! ” shouted Mick. “ In- 
famous seducer ! infernal deceiver ! — you come and wind your 
toils round this suffering angel here — you win her heart and 
leave her — and fancy her brother won’t defend her? Draw 
this minute, you slave ! and let me cut the wicked heart out of 
your body ! ” 

“This is regular assassination,” said Quin, starting back; 
“ there’s two on ’em on me at once. Fagan, you won’t let ’em 
murder me ? ” 

“ Faith ! ” said Captain Fagan, who seemed mightily amused, 
“you may settle your own quarrel, Captain Quin,” and coming 
over to me, whispered, “ At him again, you little fellow.” 

“ As long as Mr. Quin withdraws his claim,” said I, “ I, of 
course, do not interfere.” 

“ I do, sir, — I do,” said Mr. Quin, more and more flustered. 

“ Then defend yourself like a man, curse you ! ” cried Mick 
again. “ Mysie, lead this poor victim away — Redmond and 
Fagan will see fair play between us.” 

“ Well now — I don’t — give me time — I’m puzzled — I — I 
don’t know which way to look.” 

“ Like the donkey betwixt the two bundles of hay,” said 
Mr. Fagan, dryly, “ and there’s pretty pickings on either side.” 


CHAPTER II. 

IN WHICH I SHOW MYSELF TO BE A MAN OF SPIRIT. 

During this dispute, my cousin Nora did the only thing 
that a lady, under such circumstances, could do, and fainted in 
due form. I was in hot altercation with Mick at the time, or I 
should have, of course, flown to her assistance, but Captain 
Pagan (a dry sort of fellow this Fagan was) prevented me, 
saying, “ I advise you to leave the young lady to herself, Master 
Redmond, and be. sure she will come to.” And so indeed, 
after a while, she did, which has shown me since that Fagan 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


32 

knew the world pretty well, for many’s the lady I’ve seen in 
after times recover in a similar manner. Quin did not offer to 
help her, you may be sure, for, in the midst of the diversion, 
caused by her screaming, the faithless bully stole away. 

“ Which of us is Captain Quin to engage ? ” said I to Mick * 
for it was my first affair, and I was as proud of it as of a suit 
of laced velvet. “ Is it you or I, cousin Mick, that is to have 
the honor of chastising this insolent Englishman ? ” And I 
held out my hand as I spoke, for my heart melted towards my 
cousin under the triumph of the moment. 

But he rejected the proffered offer of friendship. “ You — 
you ! ” said he, in a towering passion ; “ hang you for a 
meddling brat ; your hand is in everybody’s pie. What busi- 
ness had you to. come brawling and quarrelling here, with a 
gentleman who has fifteen hundred a year? ” 

“ Oh,” gasped Nora, from the stone bench, “ I shall die ; I 
know I shall. I shall never leave this spot.” 

“ The captain’s not gone yet,” whispered Fagan ; on which 
Nora, giving him an indignant look, jumped up and walked 
towards the house. 

“ Meanwhile,” Mick continued, “ what business have you, 
you meddling rascal, to interfere with a daughter of this 
house ? ” 

“ Rascal yourself ! ” roared I : “ call me another such name, 
Mick Brady, and I’ll drive my hanger into your weazand. 
Recollect, I stood to you when I was eleven years old. I’m 
your match now, and, by Jove, provoke me, and I’ll beat you 
like — like your younger brother always did.” That was a home- 
cut, and I saw Mick turn blue with fury. 

“ This is a pretty way to recommend yourself to the family,” 
said Fagan, in a soothing tone. 

“ The girl’s old enough to be his mother,” growled Mick. 

“Old or not,” I replied : “you listen to this Mick Brady ” 
(and I swore a tremendous oath, that need not be put down 
here) : “ the man that marries Nora Brady must first kill me — • 
do you mind that ? ” 

“Pooh, sir,” said Mick, turning away, “kill you — flog you, 
you mean ! I’ll send for Nick the huntsman to do it ; ” and so 
he went off. , 

Captain Fagan now came up, and, taking me kindly by the 
hand, said I was a gallant lad, and he liked my spirit. “ But 
what Brady says is true,” continued he ; “ it’s a hard tiling to 
give a lad counsel who is in such a far-gone state as you ; but, 
believe me, I know the world, and if you will but follow my ad- 


BARRY LYNDON, \ ESQ. 


33 


vice, you won’t regret having taken it. Nora Brady has not a 
penny ; you are not a whit richer. You are but fifteen, and 
she‘:/four-ancl-twenty. In ten years, when you’re old enough 
to marry, she will be an old woman ; and, my poor boy, don’t 
you see— though it’s a hard matter to see — that she’s a flirt, 
and does not care a pin for you or Quin either ?”"*** 

But who in love (or in any other point, for the matter of 
that) listens to advice ? I never did, and I told Captain Fagan 
fairly, that Nora might love me or not, as she liked, but that 
Quin should fight me before he married her — -that I swore. 

“ ’Faith,” says Fagan, “ I think you are a lad that’s likely 
to keep your word ; ” and, looking hard at me for a second or 
two, he walked away likewise, humming a tune ; and I saw he 
looked back at me as he went through the old gate out of the 
garden. When he was gone, and I was quite alone, I flung 
myself down on the bench where Nora had made believe to 
faint, and had left her handkerchief ; and taking it up, hid my 
face in it, and burst into such a passion of tears, as I would 
then have had nobody see for the world. The crumpled ribbon 
which I had flung at Quin lay in the walk, and I sat there for 
hours, as wretched as any man in Ireland, I believe, for the 
time being. But it’s a changeable world ! When we consider 
how great our sorrows seem , and how small they are : how we 
think we shall die of grief, and how quickly we forget, I think 
we ought to be ashamed of ourselves and our fickle-heartedness. 
For, after all, what business has Time to bring us consolation ? 
I have not, perhaps, in the course of my multifarious adven- 
tures and experience, hit upon the right woman ; and have for- 
gotten, after a little, every single creature I adored ; but I 
think, if I could but have lighted on the right one, I would have 
loved her for ever. 

I must have sat for some hours bemoaning myself on the 
garden-bench, for it was morning when I came to Castle Brady, 
and the dinner-bell clanged as usual at three o’clock, which 
wakened me up from my reverie. Presently I gathered up the 
handkerchief, and once more took the ribbon. As I passed 
through the offices, I saw the captain’s saddle was still hanging 
up at the stable-door, and saw his odious red-coated brute of a 
servant swaggering with the scullion-girls and kitchen-people. 
“The Englishman’s still there, Master Redmond,” said one of 
fhe maids to me (a sentimental black-eyed girl, who waited on 
the young ladies). “ He’s there in the parlor, with the sweetest 
fillet of vale ; go in, and don’t let him browbeat you, Master 
Redmond.” 


o 


34 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


And in I went, and took my place at the bottom of the big 
table, as usual, and my friend the butler speedily brought me 
a cover. 

“ Hallo, Reddy my boy ! ” said my uncle, “ up and well ? 
— that’s right. 

“ He’d better be home with his mother/’ growled my aunt. 

“ Don’t mind her,” says uncle Brady ; “ it’s the cold goose 
she ate at breakfast didn’t agree with her. Take a glass of 
spirits, Mrs. Brady, to Redmond’s health.” It was evident he 
did not know of what had happened ; but Mick, who was at 
dinner too, and Ulick and almost all the girls, looked exceed- 
ingly black, and the captain foolish ; and Miss Nora, who was 
again by his side, ready to cry. Captain Fagan sat smiling ; 
and I looked on as cold as a stone. I thought the dinner would 
choke me : but I was determined to put a good face on it, and 
when the cloth was drawn, filled my glass with the rest; and 
we drank the King and the Church, as gentlemen should. My 
uncle was in high good-humor, and especially always joking 
with Nora and the captain. It was, “ Nora, divide that merry- 
thought with the captain ! see who’ll be married first.” “ Jack 
Quin, my dear boy, never mind a clean glass for the claret, 
we’re short of crystal at Castle Brady ; take Nora’s and the 
wine will taste none the worse ; ” and so on. He was in the 
highest glee, — I did not know why. Had there been a recon- 
ciliation between the faithless girl and her lover since they had 
come into the house ? 

I learned the truth very soon. At the third toast, it was 
always the custom for the ladies to withdraw ; but my uncle 
stopped them this time, in spite of the lemonstrances of Nora 
who said, “ Oh, pa ! do let us go ! ” and said, “ No, Mrs. Brady 
and ladies, if you please ; this is a sort of toast that is drunk a 
great dale too seldom in my family, and you’ll please to receive 
it with all the honors. Here’s Captain and Mrs. John Quin, 
and long life to them. Kiss her, Jack, you rogue : for ’faith 
you’ve got a treasure ! ” 

“ He has already ” I screeched out, springing up. 

“ Hold your tongue, you fool — hold your tongue ! ” said 
big Ulick, who sat by me ; but I wouldn’t hear. 

“ He has already,” I screamed, “ been slapped in the face 
this morning, Captain John Quin ; he’s already been called 
coward, Captain John Quin ; and this is the way I’ll drink his 
health. Here’s your health. Captain John Quin ! ” And 1 
Hung a glass of claret into his face. I don’t know how he 
looked after it, for the next moment I myself was under the 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ . 


35 


table, tripped up by Ulick, who hit me a violent cuff on the 
head as I went down ; and I had hardly leisure to hear the 
general screaming ancl skurrying that was taking place above 
me, being so fully occupied with kicks, and thumps, and curses, 
with which Ulick was belaboring me. “ You fool ! ” roared he — • 
u you great blundering marplot — you silly beggarly brat” (a 
thump at each), “ hold your tongue ! ” These blows from Ulick, 
of course, I did not care for, for he had always been my friend, 
and had been in the habit of thrashing me all my life. 

When I got up from under the table all the ladies were 
gone ; and I had the satisfaction of seeing the captain’s nose 
was bleeding, as mine was — his was cut across the bridge, and 
his beauty spoiled forever. Ulick shook himself, sat down 
quietly, filled a bumper, and pushed the bottle to me. “ There, 
you* young donkey,” said he, “ sup that; and let’s hear no 
more of your braying.” 

“ In heaven’s name, what does all the row mean ? ” says 
my uncle. “ Is the boy in the fever again ? ” 

“ It’s all your fault,” said Mick, sulkily : “ yours and those 
who brought him here.” 

“ Hold your noise, Mick ! ” says Ulick, turning on him ; 
“ speak civil of my father and me, and don’t let me be called 
upon to teach you manners.” 

“It is your fault,” repeated Mick. “ What business has the 
vagabond here ? If I had my will, I’d have him flogged and 
turned out.” 

“ And so he should be,” said Captain Quin. 

“ You’d best not try it, Quin,” said Ulick, who was always 
my champion ; and turning, to his father, “ the fact is, sir, that 
the young monkey has fallen in love with Nora, and finding 
her and the captain mighty sweet in the garden to-day, he was 
for murdering Jack Quin.” 

“ Gad, he’s beginning young,” said my uncle, quite good- 
humoredly. “ Faith, Fagan, that boy’s a Brady, every inch of 
him.” 

“ And I’ll tell you what, Mr. B,” cried Quin, bursting up : 
“ I’ve been insulted grossly in this 'ouse. I ain’t at all satisfied 
with these here ways of going on. I’m an Englishman I am, 
and a man of property ; and I — I ” 

“ If you’re insulted, and not satisfied, remember there’s two 
of us, Quin,” said Ulick, gruffly. On which the captain fell to 
washing his nose in water, and answered never a word. 

“Mr. Quin,” said I, in the most dignified tone I could as- 
sume, “ may also have satisfaction any time he pleases, by call- 


3 6 


THE MEMOIRS OE 


ing on Redmond Barry, Esquire, of Barryville.” At which 
speech my unde burst out a-laughing (as he did at everything) ; 
and in this laugh, Captain Fagan, much to my mortification, 
joined. I turned rather smartly upon him, however, and bade 
him to understand that as for my cousin Click, who had been 
my best friend through life, I could put up with rough treatment 
trom him ; yet, though I was a boy, even that sort of treatment 
1 would bear from him no longer ; and any other person who 
ventured on the like would find me a man, to their cost. “ Mr. 
Quin,” 1 added “ knows that fact very well ; and if he's a man, 
he’ll know where to find me.” 

My uncle now observed that it was getting late, and that my 
mother would be anxious about me. ■“ One of you iiad better 
go home with him,” said he, turning to his sons, “or the lad 
may be playing more pranks.” But Ulick said, with a nod to 
his brother, “ Both of us ride home with Quin here.” 

“ I’m not afraid of Freny’s people,” said the captain, with a 
faint attempt at a laugh ; “my man is armed, and so am I.” 

“You know the use of arms very well, Quin,” said Ulick ; 
“ and no one can doubt your courage ; but Mick and I will see 
you home for all that.” 

“ Why, you’ll not be home till morning, boys. Kilwangan’s 
a good ten mile from here.” 

“ We’ll sleep at Quin’s quarters,” replied Ulick : “ were going 
to stop a week there'' 

“Thank you,” says Quin, very faint; “it’s very kind of 
you.” 

“ You’ll be lonely, you know, without us.” 

“ O yes, very lonely ! ” says Quin. 

“ And ii another week, my boy,” says Ulick (and here he 
whispered something in the captain’s ear, in which I caught 
the words “marriage,” “parson,”’ and felt all my fury returning 
again). 

“ As you please,” whined out the captain ; and the horses 
were quickly brought round, and the three gentlemen rode 
away. 

Fagan stopped, and at my uncle’s injunction, walked 
across the old treeless park with me. He said that after the 
quarrel at dinner, he thought I would scarcely want to see the 
ladies that night, in which opinion I concurred entirely ; and 
so we went off without an adieu. 

“ A pretty day’s work of it you have made. Master Red- 
mond,” said he. “ What ! you a friend to the Brady, and know- 
ing your uncle to be distressed for money, try and break off a 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ 


37 


match which will bring fifteen hundred a year into the family ? 
Quin has promised to pay off the four thousand pounds which 
is bothering your uncle so. He takes a girl without a penny — 
a girl with no more beauty than yonder bullock. Well, well, 
don’t look furious ; let’s say she is handsome — there’s no ac- 
counting for tastes,— a girl that has been flinging herself at the 
head of every man in these parts these ten years past, and 
missing them all. And you, as poor as herself, a boy of fifteen 
— -well, sixteen, if you insist — and a boy who ought to be at- 
tached to your uncle as to your father ” 

“ And so I am,” said I. 

And this is the return you make him for his kindness ! 
Didn’t he harbor you in his house when you were an orphan, 
and hasn’t he given you rent-free, your fine mansion of Barry- 
ville yonder? And now, when bis affairs can be put into order, 
and a chance offers for his old age to be made comfortable, 
who flings himself in the way of him and competence ?— You, 
of all others ; the man in the world most obliged to him. It’s 
wicked, ungrateful, unnatural. From a lad of such spirit as 
you are, I expect a truer courage.” 

“ I am not afraid of any man alive,” exclaimed I (for this 
latter part of the captain’s argument had rather staggered me, 
and I wished, of course, to turn it — as one always should when 
the enemy’s too strong); “ and it’s I am the injured man, 
Captain Fagan. No man was ever, since the world began, 
treated so. Look here — look at this ribbon. I’ve worn it in 
my heart for six months. I’ve had it there all the time of die 
fever. Didn’t Nora take it out of her own bosom and give it 
me ? Didn’t she kiss me when she gave it me, and call me 
her darling Redmond? ” 

“ She w as practising, ’ ’ replied Mr. Fagan, with a sneer. “I 
know women, sir. Give them time, and let nobody else come 
to the house, and they’ll fall in love with a chimney-sweep. 
There was a young lady in Fermoy ” 

“ A young lady in flames,” roared I (but I used a still hot- 
ter word). “ Mark this : come what will of it, I swear I’ll fight 
the man who pretends to the hand of Nora Brady. I’ll follow 
him, if it’s into the church, and meet him there. I’ll have his 
blood, or he shall have mine ; and this ribbon shall be found 
dyed in it. Yes ! and if I kill him, I’ll pin it on his breast, and 
then she may go and take back her token.” This I said be- 
cause I was very much excited at the time, and because I had 
not read novels and romantic plays for nothing. 

“ Weil,” says Fagan after a-pause, “if it must be, it must. 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


38 

For a young fellow, you are the most bloodthirsty I ever saw. 
Quin’s a determined fellow, too.” 

“Will you take my message to him ? ” said I, quite eagerly. 

“ Hush ! ” said Fagan : “your mother may be on the look- 
out. Here we are, close to Barry ville.” 

“ Mind ! not a word to my mother,” 1 said ; and went into 
the house swelling with pride and exultation to think that I 
should have a chance against the Englishman I hated so. 

Tim, my servant, had come up from Barryville on my 
mother’s return from church ; for the good lady was rather 
alarmed at my absence, and anxious for my return. But he 
had seen me go in to dinner, at the invitation of the sentimental 
lady’s maid ; and when he had had his own share of the good 
things in the kitchen, which was always better furnished than 
ours at home, had walked back again to inform his mistress 
where I was, and, no doubt, to tell her, in his own fashion, of 
all the events that had happened at Castle Brady. In spite Of 
my precautions to secrecy, then, I half suspected that my 
mother knew all, from the manner in which she embraced me 
on my arrival, and received our guest, Captain Fagan. The 
poor Soul looked a little anxious and flushed, and every now 
and then gazed very hard in the captain’s face ; but she said 
not a word about the quarrel, for she had a noble spirit, and 
would as lief have seen any one of her kindred hanged as shirk- 
ing from the field of honor. What has become of those gallant 
feelings nowadays? Sixty years ago a man was a man, in old 
Ireland, and the sword that was worn by his side was at the 
service of any gentleman’s gizzard, upon the slightest differ- 
ence. But the good old times and usages are fast fading away. 
One scarcely ever hears of a fair meeting now, and the use of 
those cowardly pistols, in place of the honorable and manly 
weapon of gentlemen, has introduced a deal of knavery into the 
practice of duelling, that cannot be sufficiently deplored. 

When I arrived at home I felt that I was a man in earnest, 
and welcoming Captain Fagan to Barryville, and introducing 
him to my mother, in a majestic and dignified way, said the 
captain must be thirsty after his walk, and called upon Tim to 
bring up a bottle of the yellow-sealed Bordeaux, and cakes and 
glasses immediately. 

Tim looked at the mistress in great wonderment ; and the 
fact is, that six hours previous I would as soon have thought of 
burning the house down as calling for a bottle of claret on my 
own account ; but I felt I was a man now, and had a right to 
command ; and my mother felt this too, for she turned to the 


BARRY L YiVDOiVs ESQ . 


39 


fellow, and said, sharply, “ Don’t you hear, you rascal, what 
•your master says ! Go, get the wine, and the cakes and glasses 
directly.” Then (for you may be sure she did not give Tim the ' 
keys of our little cellar) she went and got the liquor herself ; 
and Tim brought it in, on the silver tray, in due form. My 
dear mother poured out the wine, and drank the captain wel- 
come ; but I observed her hand shook very much as she per- 
formed this courteous duty, and the bottle went clink, clink, 
against the glass. When she had tasted her glass, she said she 
had a headache, and would go to bed ; and so I asked her 
blessing, as becomes a dutiful son — (the modern bloods have 
given up the respectful ceremonies which distinguished a gen- 
tleman in my time) — and she left me and Captain Fagan to talk 
over our important business. 

“ Indeed,” said the captain, “ I see now no other way out . of 
the scrape than a meetings The fact is, there was a talk of it at 
Castle Brady, after your attack upon Quin this afternoon, and 
he vowed that he would cut you in pieces ; but the tears and sup- 
plications of Miss Honoria induced him, though very unwillingly, 
to relent. Now, however, matters have gone too far. No offi- 
cer, bearing his Majesty’s commission, can receive a glass of 
wine on his nose — this claret of yours is very good, by the way, 
and by your leave we’ll ring for another bottle — without resent- 
ing the affront. Fight you must ; and Quin is a huge strong 
fellow.” 

“He’ll give the better mark,” said I. “I am not afraid of 
him.” 

“ In faith,” said the captain, “I believe you are not ; for a 
lad, I never saw more game in my life.” 

“ Look at that sword, sir,” says I, pointing to an elegant 
silver-mounted one, in a white shagreen case, that hung on the 
mantle-piece, under the picture of my father, Harry Barry. “It 
was with that sword, sir, that my father pinked Mohawk O’Dris- 
col, in Dublin, in the year 1740 : with that sword, sir, he met 
Sir Huddlestone Fuddlestone, the Hampshire baronet, and ran 
him through the neck. They met on horseback, with sword and 
pistol, on Hounslow Heath, as I dare say you have heard tell 
of, and those are the pistols” (they hung on each side of the 
picture) “ which the gallant Barry used. He was quite in the 
wrong, having insulted Lady Fuddlestone, when in liquor, at 
the Brentford assembly. But like a gentleman he scorned to 
apologize, and Sir Huddlestone received a ball through his hat 
before they engaged with the sword. I am Harry Barry’s son, 
sir, and will act as becomes my name and my quality.” 


4 ° 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


“ Give me a kiss, my dear boy/’ said Fagan, with tears in 
his eyes, ;i You’re after my own soul. As long as jack Fagan 
lives you shall never want a friend or a second.” 

Poor fellow ! he was shot six months afterwards, carrying 
orders to my Lord George Sackville, at Minden, and I lost 
thereby a kind friend. But we don’t know what is in store for 
us, and that night was a merry one at least. We had a second 
bottle, and a third too (I could hear the poor mother going down 
stairs for each, but she never came into the parlor with them, 
and sent them in by the butler, Mr. Tim) ; and we parted at 
length, he engaging to arrange matters with Mr. Quin’s second 
that night, and to bring me news in the morning as to the place 
where the meeting should take place. I have often thought 
since, how different my fate might have been, had I not fallen 
in love with Nora at that early age ; and had I not flung the 
wine in Quin’s face, and so brought on the duel. I might have 
settled down in Ireland but for that (for Miss Quinlan was an 
heiress, within twenty miles of us, and Peter Burke, of Kilwan • 
gan, left his daughter Judy 700/. a year, and I might have had 
either of them, had I waited a few years). But it was in my 
fate to be a wanderer, and that battle with Quin sent me on 
my travels at a very early age : as you shall hear anon. 

I never slept sounder in my life, though I woke a little 
earlier than usual ; and you may be sure my first thought was 
of the event of the day, for which 1 was fully prepared. I had 
ink and pen in my room — had I not been writing these verses 
to Nora but the day previous, like a poor fond fool as I was ? 
And now I sat down and wrote a couple of letters more : they 
might be the last, thought I, that I ever should write in my 
life. The first was to my mother. “ Honored Madam ” — I 
wrote — “ This will not be given you unless I fall by the hand 
of Captain Quin, whom I meet this day in the field of honor, 
with sword and pistol. If I die, it is as a good Christian and a 
gentleman, — how should I be otherwise when educated by such 
a mother as you ? I forgive all my enemies — I beg your bless- 
ing, as a dutiful son. I desire that my mare Nora, which my 
uncle gave me, and which I called after the most faithless of 
her sex, may be returned to Castle Brady, and beg you will 
give my silver-hilted hanger to Phil Purcell, the gamekeeper. 
Present my duty to my uncle and Ulick, and all ijie girls of my 
party there. And I remain your dutiful son, — Redmond 
Barry.” 

To Nora I wrote — (‘This letter will be found in my bosom 
along with the token you gave me. It will be dyed in my 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


41 


blood (unless I have Captain Quin's, whom I hate, but forgive), 
and will be a pretty ornament for you on your marriage day. 
Wear it, and think of the poor boy to whom you gave it, and 
who died (as he was always ready to do) for your sake. — • 
Redmond.” 

These letters being written, and sealed with my father's 
great silver seal of the Barry arms, I went down to breakfast ; 
where my mother was waiting for me, you may be sure. We 
did not say a single word about what was taking place : on the 
contrary, we talked of anything but that; about who was at 
church the day before, and about my wanting new clothes now 
I was grown so tall. She said I must have a suit against win- 
ter, if — if — she could afford it. She winced rather at the “ if,” 
heaven bless her ! I knew what was in her mind. And then 
she fell to telling me about the black pig that must be killed, 
and that she had found the speckled hen's nest that morning, 
whose eggs I liked so, and other such trifling talk. Some of 
these eggs were for breakfast, and I ate them with a good ap- 
petite ; but in helping myself to salt I spilled it, on which she 
started up with a scream. “ Thank God /” said she, “ it's fallen 
towards pieT And then, her heart being too full, she left the 
room. Ah ! they have their faults, those mothers ; but are 
there any other women like them? 

When she was gone I went to take down the sword with 
which my father had vanquished the Hampshire baronet, and 
would you believe it ? — the brave woman had tied a new ribbon 
to the hilt : for indeed she had the courage of a lioness and a 
Brady united. And then I took down the pistols, which were 
always kept bright and well oiled, and put some fresh flints I 
had into the locks, and got balls and powder ready against the 
captain should come. There was claret and a cold fowl put 
ready for him on the sideboard, and a case-bottle of old brandy 
too, with a couple of little glasses on the silver tray with the 
Barry arms emblazoned. In after life, and in the midst of my 
fortune and splendor, I paid thirty-five guineas, and almost as 
much more interest, to the London goldsmith who supplied my 
father with that very tray. A scoundrel pawnbroker would 
only give me sixteen for it afterwards ; so little can we trust the 
honor of rascally tradesmen ! 

At eleven o’clock Captain Fagan arrived, on horseback, with 
a mounted dragoon after him. He paid his compliments to the 
collation which my mother’s care had provided for him, and 
then said, “ Look ye, Redmond my boy: this is a silly business. 
The girl will marry Quin, mark my words ; and as sure as she 


42 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


does you'll forget her. You are but a boy. Quin is willing to 
consider you as such. Dublin’s a fine place, and if you have a 
mind to take a ride thither and see the town for a month, here 
are twenty guineas at your service. Make Quin an apology 
and be off.” 1 

“A man of honor, Mr. Fagan,” says I, “dies, but never 
apologizes. 141 see the captain hanged before I apologize.” 

“ Then there’s nothing for it but a meeting.” 

“My mare is saddled and ready,” says I; “where’s the 
meeting, and who’s the captain’s second ? ” 

“ Your cousins go out with him,” answered Mr. Fagan. 

“ I 11 ring for my groom to bring my mare round,” 1 said, 
“as soon as you have rested yourself.” " Tim was accordingly 
despatched for Nora, and I rode away, but I didn’t take leave 
of Mrs. Barry. The curtains of her bedroom windows we;e 
down, and they didn’t move as we mounted and trotted off. . . 
But tivo hours afterwards, you should have seen her as she came 
tottering down stairs, and heard the Scream which she gave as 
she hugged her boy to her heart, quite unharmed and without 
a wound in his body. 

What had taken place I may as well tell here. When we 
got to the ground, Ulick, Mick, and the captain, were already 
there : Quin, flaming in red regimentals, as big a monster as 
ever led a grenadier company. The party were laughing 
together at some joke of one or the other: and I must say I 
thought this laughter very unbecoming in my cousins, who were 
met, perhaps, to see the death of one of their kindred. 

“ I hope to spoil this sport,” says I to Captain Fagan, in a 
great rage* “and trust to see this sword of mine in yonder big 
bully’s body.” 

“Oh! it’s with pistols we fight,” replied Mr. Fagan. “You 
are no match for Quin with the sword.” 

“ HI match any man with the sword,” said I. 

“ But swords are to-day impossible ; Captain Quin is — is 
lame. He knocked his knee against the swinging park -gate 
last night, as he was riding home, and can scarce move it now.” 

“ Not against Castle Brady gate,” says I : “ that has been off 
the hinges these ten years.” On which Fagan said it must 
have been some other gate, and repeated what he had said to 
Mr. Quin and my cousins, when, on alighting from our horses, 
we joined and saluted those gentlemen. 

“ O yes ! dead lame,” said Ulick, coming to shake me by the 
hand, while Captain Quin took off his hat and turned extremely 
red. “And very lucky fer you, Redmond mv bov,” continued 


BARKY LYNDON, ESQ. 


43 

Ulick ; “you were a dead man else ; for he is a' devil of a 
fellow— risn’t he, Fagan ?” 

“A regular Turk-,'7, answered Fagan ; adding; “I never yet 
knew the man who stood to Captain Quin.” 

“ Hang the business ! ” said Ulick ; “ I hate it. Fm ashamed 
of it. Say you’re sorry, Redmond: you can easily say that.” 

“ If the young feller will go to Dub ling, as proposed — »” here 
interposed Mr. Quin. 

. ■“ I am not sorry — I’ll not apologize- — and I’ll as soon go to 
Dubling as to ! ” said I, with a stamp of my foot. 

“ There’s nothing else for it,” said Ulick with a laugh to 
P"agan. “ Take your ground, Fagan, — twelve paces, I suppose ? ” 

“Ten, sir,” said Mr. Quin, in a big voice; “and make 
them short ones, do you hear, Captain Fagan ? ” 

“ Don’t bully, Mr. Quin,” said Ulick, surlily; “ here are the 
pistols.” And he added, with some emotion, to me, “ God 
bless you, my boy ; and when I count three, fire.” 

Mr. Fagan put my pistol into my hand, — that is, not one of 
mine (which were to serve, if need were, for the next round), 
but one of Ulick’s. “ They are all right, ’’.said he. “ Never 
fear : and, Redmond, fire at his neck — hit him there under the 
gorget. See how the fool shows himself open.”. 

Mick, who had never spoken a word, Ulick, and the captain 
retired to one side, and Ulick gave the signal. It was slowly 
given, and I had leisure to cover my man well. I saw him 
changing color and trembling as the numbers were given. At 
“ three,” both our pistols went off. I heard . something whiz by 
me, and my antagonist giving a most horrible groan, staggered 
backwards and fell. 

“ He’s down — he’s down !” cried the seconds, running to- 
wards him. Ulick lifted him up — Mick took his head. 

“ He’s hit here, in the neck,” said Mick ; and laying open his 
coat, blood was seen gurgling from under his gorget, at the vety 
spot at which I aimed. 

“ How is it with you ? ” said Ulick. “ Is he really hit ? ” 
said he, looking hard at him. The unfortunate man did not 
answer, but when the support of Ulick’s arm was withdrawn 
from his back, groaned once more, and fell backwards. 

“ ITe young fellow has begun well,” said Mick, with a 
scowl. “ You had better ride off, young sir, before the police 
are up. They had wind of the business before we left Kil- 
wangan.” 

“ Is he quite dead ? ” said I. 

“ Quite dead,” answered Mick. 


44 


7vr ; :}/-;j:o/A's of 

“ Then the world's rid of a coward , ,” said Captain Fagan, 
giving the huge prostrate body a scornful kick with his foot. 
“ It’s all over with him, Reddy, — he doesn’t stir.” 

“ IVc are not cowards, Fagan,” said Ulick, roughly, “ what- 
ever he was ! Let’s get the boy off as quick as we may. Your 
man shall go for a cart, and take away the body of this unhappy 
gentleman. This has been a sad day’s work for our family, 
Redmond Barry : you have robbed us of 1500/. a year.” 

“ It was Nora did it,” said I; “ not I.” And I took the 
ribbon she gave me out of my waistcoat, and the letter, and 
flung them down on the body of Captain Quin. “ There ! ” 
says I — “ take her those ribbons. She’ll know what they mean : 
and that’s all that’s left to her of two lovers she had and ruined.” 

I did not fe§l any horror or fear, young as I was, in seeing 
my enemy prostrate before me; for I knew that I had met and 
conquered him honorably in the field, as became a man of my 
name and blood. 

“ And now, in heaven’s name, get the youngster out of the 
way,” said Mick. 

• Ulick said he would ride with me, and off accordingly wc 
galloped, never drawing bridle till we came to my mother’s 
door. When there, Ulick told Tim to feed my mare, as I would 
have far to ride that day, and I was in the poor mother’s arms 
in a minute. 

I need not tell how great were her pride and exultation 
when she heard from Ulick’s lips the account of my behavior 
at the duel. He urged, however, that I should go into hiding 
for a short time ; and it was agreed between them that I should 
dftDp my name of Barry, and taking that of Redmond, go to 
Dublin, and there wait until matters were blown over. This 
arrangement was not come to without some discussion ; for 
why should I not be as safe at Barryville, she said, as my 
cousin and Ulick at Castle Brady? — bailiffs and duns never got 
near them ; why should constables be enabled to come upon 
me ? But Ulick persisted in the necessity of my instant de- 
parture ; in which argument, as 1 was anxious to see the world, 
I must confess, I sided with him ; and my mother was brought 
to see that in our small house at Barryville, in the midst of the 
village, and with the guard but of a couple of servants, escape 
would be impossible. So the kind soul w r as forced to yield to 
my cousin’s entreaties, who promised her, however, that the 
affair would soon be arranged, and that 1 should be restored to 
her. Ah ! how little did lie know what fortune was in store fox 
me ! 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ . 


45 


My clear mother had some forebodings, I think, that our 
separation was to be a long one ; for she told me that all night 
long she had been consulting the cards regarding my fate in the 
duel; and that all the 'signs betokened a separation ; then, 
taking out a stocking from her escritoire, the kind soul put 
twenty guineas in a purse for me (she had herself put twenty- 
five), and made up a little valise, to be placed at the back of my 
mare, in which were my clothes, linen, and a silver dressing-case 
of my father’s. She bade me, too, to keep the sword ancl the 
pistols I had known to . use so like a man. She hurried my 
departure now, (though her heart, I know, was full,) and almost 
in half an hour after my arrival at home I was once more on the 
road again, with the wide, world as it were before me. I need 
not tell how Tim and the cook cried at my departure ; and, may- 
hap, I had a tear or two myself in my eyes ; but no. lad of six- 
teen is very sad who has liberty for the first time, and twenty 
guineas in his pocket : and I rode away, thinking, I confess, 
not so much of the kind mother left alone, and of the home 
behind me, as of to-morrow, and all the wonders it would 
bring. 


CHAPTER III. 

1 MAKE A FALSE START IN THE GEN*TEXjx WORLD. 

I rode that night as far as Carlow, where I lay at the best 
inn ; and being asked what was my name by the landlord of the 
house, gave it as Mr. Redmond, according to my cousin’s in- 
structions, and said I was of the Redmonds of Waterford county, 
and was on my road to Trinity College, Dublin, to be educated 
there. Seeing my handsome appearance, silver-hiltecl sword, 
and well-filled valise, my landlord made free to send up a jug of 
claret without my asking ; and charged, you maybe sure, pretty 
handsomely for it in the bill. No gentleman in those, good old 
days went to bed without a good share of liquor to. set him 
sleeping, and on this my first day’s entrance into the. world, 
I made a point to act the line gentleman completely ; and, 1 
assure you, succeeded in my part to admiration. The excite- 
ment of the events of the day, the quitting my home, the 


46 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


meeting with Captain Quin, were enough to set my brains ii\ a 
whirl, without the claret; which served to finish me completely. 
I did not dream of the death of Quin, as some milksops, per- 
haps, would have done ; indeed, I have never had any of that 
foolish remorse consequent upon any of my affairs of honor : 
always considering, from the first, that where a gentleman risks 
his own life in manly combat, he is a. fool to be ashamed be- 
cause he wins. I slept at Carlow as sound as man could sleep ; 
drank a tankard of small beer and a toast to my breakfast ; and 
exchanged the first of my gold pieces to settle the bill, not for- 
getting to pay all the servants liberally, and as a gentleman 
should. I began so the first day of my life, and so have ‘con- 
tinued. No man has been at greater straits than I, and has 
borne more pinching poverty and hardship ; but nobody can 
say of me that, if 1 had a guinea, I was not free-handed with it, 
and did not spend it as well as a lord could do. 

I had no doubts of the future : thinking that a man of my 
person, parts, and courage, could make his way anywhere. Be- 
sides, I had twenty gold guineas in my pocket ; a sum which 
(although I was mistaken) I calculated would last me for four 
months at least, during which time something would be done to- 
wards the making of my fortune. So I rode on, singing to my- 
self, or chatting with the passers-by; and all the girls along the 
road said God save me for a clever gentleman ! As for Nora 
and Castle Brady, between to-day and yesterday there seemed 
to be a gap as of half-a-score of years. I vowed I would never 
re-enter the place but as a great man ; and I kept my vow too, 
as you shall hear in due time. 

There was much more liveliness and bustle on the king’s 
highroad in those times, than in these days of stage-coaches, 
which carry you from one end of the kingdom to another in a 
few score hours. The gentry rode their own horses or drove 
in their own coaches, and spent three days on a journey which 
now occupies ten hours ; so that there was no lack of company 
for a person travelling towards Dublin. I made part of the 
journey from Carlow towards Naas with a well armed gentle- 
man from Kilkenny, dressed in green and a gold cord, with a 
patch on his eye, and riding a powerful mare. He asked me 
the question of the day, and whither I was bound, and whether 
my mother was not afraid on account of the highwaymen to let 
one so young as myself to travel ? But I said, pulling out one of 
them from a holster, that I had a pair of good pistols that 
had already done execution, and were ready to do it again ; 
and here, a pock-marked man coming up, he put spurs , to his 


BARR Y L YNDON, \ ESQ. 


47 


bay mare and left me. She was a much more powerful animal 
than mine ; and, besides, I did not wish to fatigue my horse, 
wishing to enter Dublin that night, and in refutable condition. 

As I rode towards Kilcullen, I saw a crowd of the peasant- 
people assembled round a one-horse chair, and my friend in 
green, as I thought, making off half a mile up the hill. A foot- 
man was howling “ Stop thief ! ” at the top of his voice ; but 
the country fellows were only laughing at his distress, and 
making all sorts of jokes at the adventure which had just be- 
fallen. 

“ Sure you might have kept him off with your blunder/;//^ / ” 
says one fellow. 

“ Oh, the coward ! to let the captain bate you ; and he only 
one eye ! ” cries another. 

“ The next time my lady travels, she’d better lave you at 
home 1 ” said a third. 

“ What is this noise, fellows ? ” said I, riding up amongst 
them, and, seeing a lady in the carriage very pale and frightened, 
gave a slash of my whip, and bade the red-shanked ruffians 
keep off. “ What has happened, madam, to annoy your lady- 
ship ? ” I said pulling off my hat, and bringing my mare up in 
a prance to the chair-window. 

The lady explained. She was the wife of Captain Fitzsimons, 
and was hastening to join the captain at Dublin. Her chair 
had been stopped by a highwayman : the great oaf of a servant- 
man had fallen down on his knees armed as he was ; and though 
there were thirty people in the next field working when the 
ruffian attacked her, not one of them would help her ; but, on 
the contrary, wished the captain, as they called the highwayman, 
good luck. 

“ Sure he’s the friend of the poor,” said one fellow, “ and 
good luck to him ! ” 

“ Was it any business of ours ? ” asked another. And an- 
ther told, grinning, that it was the famous Captain Freny, who, 
^ having bribed the jury to acquit him two days back at Kilkenny 
assizes, had mounted his horse at the jail door, and the very 
next day had robbed two barristers who were going the circuit. 

I told this pack of rascals to be off to their work, or they 
should taste of my thong, and proceeded, as well as I could, to 
comfort Mrs. Fitzsimons under her misfortunes. “ Had she 
lost much ? ” “ Everything : her purse, containing upwards 

of a hundred guineas ; her jewels, snuff-boxes, watches, and a 
pair of diamond shoe-buckles of the captain’s.” These mishaps 
I sincerely commiserated ; and knowing her by her accent to 


I'll F. MEMOIRS OF 


4 S 

bo an Englishwoman, deplored the difference that existed be- 
tween the two countries, and said that in our country (meaning 
England) such atrocities were unknown. 

“ Vou, too, are an Englishman ? ” said she, with rather a 
tone of surprise. On which I said I was proud to be such : as, 
in fact, I was ; and I never knew a true Tory gentleman of 
Ireland who did not wish he could say as much. 

I rode by Mrs. Fitzsimons’ chair all the way to Naas ; 
and, as she had been robbed of her purse, asked permission 
to lend her a couple of pieces to pay her expenses at the inn : 
which sum she was graciously pleased to accept, and was, at the 
same time, kind enough to invite me to share her dinner. To 
the lady's questions regarding my birth and parentage, I re- 
plied that I was a -young gentleman of large fortune (this was 
not true ; but what is the use of crying bad fish ? My dear 
mother instructed me early in this sort of prudence,) and 
good family in the county of Waterford ; that I was going to 
Dublin for my studies, and that my mother allowed me five 
hundred per annum. Mrs. Fitzsimons was equally communica- 
tive. She was the daughter of General Granby Somerset, of 
Worcestershire, of whom, of course, l had heard (and though 1 
had not, of course I was too well bred to say so) ; and had 
made, as she must confess, a runaway match with Ensign Fitz- 
gerald Fitzsimons. Had I been in Donegal ? — No ! That was a 
pity. The captain’s father possesses a hundred thousand acres 
there, and Fitzsimonsburgh Castle's the finest mansion in Ire- 
land. Captain Fitzsimons is the eldest son ; and, though lie 
has quarrelled with his father, must inherit the vast property. 
She went on to tell me about the balls at Dublin, the banquets 
at the Castle, the horse-races at the Phoenix, the ridottos and 
routs, until I became quite eager to join in those pleasures ; 
and I only felt grieved to think that my position would render 
secrecy necessary, and prevent me from being presented at the 
court, of which the Fitzsimonses were the most elegant orna- 
ments. How different was her lively rattle to that of the vul- 
gar wenches at the Kilwangan assemblies. In every sentence 
she mentioned a lord or a person of quality. She evidently 
spoke f rench and Italian, of the former of which languages I 
have said I knew a few words ; and, as for her English accent, 
why, perhaps I was no judge of that, for, to say the truth, she 
was the first real English person I had ever met. She recom- 
mended me, farther, to be very cautious with regard to the com- 
pany 1 should meet at Dublin,, where rogues and adventurers Of 
all countries abounded ; and my delight and gratitude to her 


BARRY L Y A DO N, BSQ. 


49 


may be imagined, when as our conversation grew more intimate 
(as\ve sat over our dessert), she kindly offered to accommodate 
me with lodgings in her own house, where her Fitzsimons, she 
said, would welcome with delight her gallant young preserver. 

“Indeed, madam,” said I, “I have preserved nothing for 
you.” Which was perfectly true ; for had I not come up too 
late after the robbery to prevent the highwayman from carrying 
off her money and pearls ? 

“ And sure, ma’am, them wasn’t much,” said Sullivan, the 
blundering servant, who had been so frightened at Freny’s ap- 
proach, and was waiting on us at dinner. “ Didn’t he return 
you the thirteen-pence in copper, and the watch, saying it was 
only pinchbeck ?•’* 

But his lady rebuked him for a saucy varlet, and turned him 
out of the room at once, saying to me when he had gone, “ that 
the fool didn’t know what was the meaning of a hundred-pound 
bill, which was in the pocket-book that Freny took from her.” 

Perhaps had I been a little older in the world’s experience, 
I should have begun to see that Madam Fitzsimons was not the 
person of fashion she pretended to be; but, as it was, I took 
all her stories for truth, and, when the landlord brought the 
bill for dinner, paid it with the air of a lord. Indeed, she made 
no motion to produce the two pieces I had lent to her ; and so 
we rode on slowly towards Dublin, into which city we made our 
entrance at nightfall. The rattle and splendor of the coaches, 
the flare of the linkboys, the number and magnificence of the 
houses, struck me with the greatest wonder ; though 1 was care- 
ful to disguise this feeling, according to my dear mother’s 
directions, who told me that it was the mark of a man of fash- 
ion never to wonder at anything, and never to admit that any 
house, equipage, or company he saw, was more splendid or 
genteel than what he had been accustomed to at home. 

We stopped, at length, at a house of rather mean appear- 
ance, and were let into a passage by. no means so clean as that 
at Barryville, where there was a great smell of supper and 
punch. A stout, red-faced man, without a periwig, and in rather 
a tattered night-gown and cap, made his appearance from the 
parlor, and embraced his lady (for it was Captain Fitzsimons) 
with a great deal of cordiality. Indeed, when he saw that a 
stranger accompanied her, he embraced her more rapturously 
than ever. , In introducing me, she persisted in saying that I 
was her preserver, and complimented my gallantry as much as 
if I had. killed Freny, instead of coming up .when the robbery 
was over. The captain said he knew the Redmonds of Water- 

4 


THE A /EMOZA'S OE 


5 ° 

ford intimately well ; which assertion alarmed me, as I knew 
nothing of the family to which 1 was stated to belong. But I 
posed him, by asking which of the Redmonds he knew, for I 
had never heard his name in,our family. He said he knew the 
Redmonds of RSdmondstown. “Oh,” says I, “mine are the 
Redmonds of Castle Redmond ; ” and so I put him off the 
scent. I went to see my nag put up at a livery-stable hard by, 
with the captain’s horse and chair, and returned to my enter- 
tainer. 

Although there were the relics of some mutton-chops and 
onions on a cracked dish before him, the captain said, “ My love, 
1 wish I had known of your coming, for Bob Moriarty and I just 
finished the most delicious venison pasty, which his grace the 
Lord Lieutenant sent us, with a flask of sillery from his own 
cellar. You know the wine, my dear? But as by-gones are 
by-gones, and no help for them, what say ye to a fine lobster 
and a bottle of as good claret as any in Ireland ? Betty, clear 
these things from the table, and make the mistress and our 
young friend welcome to our home.” 

Not having small change, Mr. Fitzsimons asked me to lend 
him a tenpenny-piece to purchase the dish of lobsters ; but his 
lady, handing out one of the guineas I had given her, bade 
the girl get the change for that, and procure the supper ; which 
she did presently, bringing back only a very few shillings out 
of the guinea to her mistress, saying that the fishmonger had 
kept the remainder for an old account. “ And the more great 
big blundering fool you, for giving the gold piece to him,” 
roared Mr. Fitzsimons. I forget how many hundred guineas 
he said he had paid the fellow during the year. 

“ Our supper was seasoned, if not by any great elegance, at 
least by a plentiful store of anecdotes, concerning the highest 
personages in the city; with whom, according to himself, the 
captain lived on terms of the utmost intimacy. Not to be 
behindhand with him, I spoke of my own estates and property 
as if I was as rich as a duke. I told all the stories of the 
nobility I had ever heard from my mother, and some that, 
perhaps, I had invented ; and ought to have been aware that 
my host was an impostor himself, as he did not find out my 
own blunders and misstatements. But youth is ever too con- 
fident. It was some time before I knew that I had made no 
very desirable acquaintance in Captain Fitzsimons and his lady ; 
and, indeed, went to bed congratulating myself upon my won- 
derful good luck in having, at the outset of my adventures, fallen 
in with so distinguished a couple. 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ 


5 1 


The appearance of the chamber I occupied might, indeed, 
have led me to imagine, that the heir of Fitzsimonsburgh Castle, 
County Donegal, was not as yet reconciled with his wealthy 
parents ; and, had I been an English lad, probably my sus- 
picion and distrust would have been aroused instantly. But 
perhaps, as the reader knows, we are not so particular in 
Ireland on the score of neatness as people are in this precise 
country ; hence the disorder of my bedchamber did not strike 
me so much. For were not all the \vindows broken and stuffed 
with rags even at Castle Brady, my uncle's superb mansion ? 
Was there ever a lock to the doors there, or if a lock, a handle 
to the lock, or a hasp to fasten it to ? So, though my bedroom 
boasted of these inconveniences, and a few ’more ; though my 
counterpane was evidently a greased brocade dress of Mrs. 
Fitzsimons’, and my cracked toilet-glass was not much bigger 
than a half-crown, yet I was used to this sort of ways in Irish 
houses, ancl still thought myself in that of a man of fashion. 
There was no lock to the drawers, which, when they did open, 
were full of my hostess's rouge-pots, shoes, stays and rags : so 
I allowed my wardrobe to remain in my valise, but set out my 
silver dressing-apparatus upon the ragged cloth on the drawers, 
where it shone to great advantage. 

When Sullivan appeared in the morning, Tasked him about 
my mare, whiqli he. informed me was doing well. I then bade 
him bring me hot shaving-water, in a loud, dignified tone. 

“Hot shaving-water ! ” says he, bursting out laughing (and 
I confess not. without reason). “ Is it yourself you’re going to 
shave?” Said he. “And maybe when T bring you up the 
water I’ll bring you up the cat too, and you can shave her.” 
1 flung a boot at the scoundrel’s head in reply to this imperti- 
nence, and was ’soon with my friends in the parlor for break- 
fast. There was' a hearty welcome, and the same cloth that 
had been used the night before : as I recognized by the black 
mark of the Irish-stew dish and the stain left by a pot of 
porter at supper. 

My host greeted me with great cordiality ; Mrs. Fitzsimons 
said I was an elegant figure for the phoenix : and indeed, with- 
out vanity, I may say of myself that there were worse- looking 
fellows in Dublin than I. I had not the powerful chest and 
muscular proportion which I have since attained (to be ex- 
changed, alas ! for gouty legs and chalk-stones in my fingers ; 
but ’tis the way of mortality), but I had arrived at near my 
present growth of .six feet, and with my hair in buckle, a, hand- 
some lacc jabot and wristbands to my shirt, and a red plush 


' THE MEMOIRS OF 


5 2 

waistcoat, barred with gold, looked the gentleman I was born. 
I wore my drab coat with plate buttons, that was grown too 
small for me, and quite agreed with Captain Fitzsimons that I 
must pay a visit to his tailor, in order to procure myself a coat 
more fitting my size. 

“ I needn’t ask whether you had a comfortable bed,” said 
he. “ Young Fred Pimpleton (Lord Pimpleton’s second son) 
slept in it for seven months, during which he did me the honor 
to stay with me, and if he was satisfied, I don’t know who 
else wouldn’t be.” 

After breakfast we walked out to see the town, and Mr. 
Fitzsimons introduced me to several of his acquaintances whom 
we met, as his particular young friend Mr. Redfnond, of Water- 
ford county ; he also presented me at his hatter’s and tailor’s 
as a gentleman of great expectations and large property : and 
although I told the latter that I should not pay him ready cash 
for more than one coat, which fitted me to a nicety, yet he in- 
sisted upon making me several, which I did not care to refuse. 
The captain, also, wlro certainly wanted such a renewal of 
raiment, told the tailor to send him home a handsome military 
frock, Which he selected. 

Then we went home to Mrs. Fitzsimons, who drove out in 
her chair to the Phoenix Park, where a review was, and where 
numbers of the young gentry were round about her ; to all of 
whom she presented me as her preserver of the day before. 
Indeed, such was her complimentary account of me, that before 
half an hour I had got to be considered as a young gentleman 
of the highest family in the land, related to all the principal 
nobilities, a cousin of Captain Fitzsimons, and heir to 10,000/. 
a year. Fitzsimons said he had ridden over every inch of my 
estate ; and ’faith, as he chose to tell these stories for me, I let 
him have his way — indeed was not a little pleased (as youth is) 
to be made much of, and to pass for a great personage. I had 
little notion then that I had got among a set of impostors — that 
Captain Fitzsimons was only an adventurer, and his lady a 
person of no credit ; but such are the dangers to which 
youth is perpetually subject, and hence let young men take 
warning by me. 

I purposely hurry over the description of my life in which 
the incidents were painful, of no great interest except to my 
unlucky self, and of which my companions were certainly not 
of a kind befitting my quality. The fact was, a young man 
could hardly have fallen into worse hands than those in which 
I now found myself. I. have been to Donegal since, and have 


BARR Y L YNDOA\ ESQ. 


53 


never seen the famous Castle of Fitzsimonsburgh, which is, 
likewise, unknown to the oldest inhabitants' of that county ; 
nor are the Granby Somersets much better known in Hamp- 
shire. The couple into whose hands I had fallen were of a sort 
much more common then than at present, for the vast wars of 
later days have rendered it very difficult for noblemen’s foot- 
men or hangers-on to procure commissions ; and such, in fact, 
had been the original station of Captain Fitzsimons. Had 
I known his origin, of course I would have died rather than 
have associated with him ; but in those simple days of youth I 
took his tales' for truth, and fancied myself in high luck at 
being, in my outset into life, introduced into such a family. 
Alas ! we are the sport of destiny. When I consider upon 
what small circumstances all the great events of my life have 
turned, I can hardly believe myself to have been anything but 
a puppet in the hands of Fate ; which has played its most fan- 
tastic tricks upon me. 

The captain had been a gentleman’s gentleman, and his 
lady of no higher rank. The society which this worthy pair 
kept was at a sort of ordinary which they held, and at which 
their friends were always welcome on payment of a certain 
moderate sum for their dinner. After dinner, you may be sure 
that cards were not wanting, and that the company who played 
did not play for love merely. To these parties persons of all 
sorts would come-: young bloods from the regiments garrisoned 
in Dublin ; young clerks from the- Castle '? horse-riding, wine-tip- 
pling, watchman-beating; men of fashion about town, such as 
existed in Dublin in that day more than in any other city with 
which I am acquainted in Europe. I never knew young fellows 
make such a show, and upon such small means. I never knew 
young gentlemen with what I may call such a genius for idle- 
ness ; and whereas an Englishman with fifty guineas a year is 
not able to do much more than to starve, dnd toil like a slave 
in a profession, a young Irish buck with the same sum will 
keep his horses, and drink his bottle and live as lazy as a lord. 
Here was a doctor who never had a patient, cheek by jowl with 
an attorney who never had a client ; neither had a guinea — 
each had a good horse to ride in the Park, and the best of 
clothes to his back. A sporting clergyman without a living , 
several young wine-merchants, who consumed much more liquor 
than they had or sold ; and men of similar character, formed 
the society at the house into which, by ill luck, I was thrown. 
What could happen to a man but misfortune from associating 
with such company ? — (I. have not mentioned the ladies, cf the 


54 


TI/E MEMOIRS OE 


society, who were, perhaps, no better than the males) — and in 
a very, very short time I became their prey. 

As for my poor twenty guineas, in three days I saw, with 
terror, that they had dwindled down to eight: theatres and 
taverns having already made such cruel inroads in my purse. 
At play I had lost, it is true, a couple of pieces ; but seeing 
that every one round about me played upon honor and gave 
their bills, I, of course, preferred that medium to the payment 
of ready money, and when I lost paid on account. 

With the tailors, saddlers, and others, I employed similar 
means ; and in so far Mr. Fitzsimons’ representation did me 
good, for the tradesmen took him at his word regarding my 
fortune (I have since learned that the rascal pigeoned several 
other young men of property), and for a little time supplied me 
with any goods I might be pleased to order. At length, my cash 
running low, I was compelled to pawn some of the suits with 
which the tailor had provided me ; for I did not like to part 
with my mare, on which I daily rode in the Park, and which I 
loved as the gift of my respected uncle. I raised some little 
money, too, on a few trinkets which I had purchased of a 
jeweller who pressed his credit upon me ; and thus was enabled 
to keep up appearances for yet a little time. 

.1 asked at the post-office repeatedly for letters for Mr. 
Redmond, but none such had. arrived ; and, indeed, I always 
felt rather relieved when the answer of “ No ” was given to 
me ; for I was not very anxious that my mother should know 
my proceedings in the extravagant life which 1 was leading at 
Dublin. It could not last very long, however ; for when my 
cash was quite exhausted, and I paid a second visit to the tai- 
lor, requesting him to make me more clothes, the fellow hummed 
and ha’d, and had the impudence to ask payment for those 
already supplied : on which, telling him I should withdraw my 
custom from him, I abruptly left him. The goldsmith too (a 
rascal Jew) declined to let me take a gold chain to which I had 
a fancy ; and I felt now, for the first time, in some perplexity. 
To add to it, one of the young gentlemen who freqriented Mr. 
Fitzsimons’ boarding-house had received from me, in the way 
of play, an I O U for eighteen pounds (which I lost to him at 
picquet), and which, owing Mr. Curbyn, the livery-stable keeper, 
a bill, he passed into that person’s hands. Fancy my rage and 
astonishment then, on going for my mare, to find that he posi- 
tively refused to let me have her out of the stable, except under 
payment of my promissory note ! It was in vain that I offered 
him his choice of four notes., that I had in my pocket — one of 


BARKY LYNDON. ESQ. 


55 


Fitzsimons’ for 20/., one of Counsellor Mulligan’s, and so forth ; 
the dealer, who was a Yorkshireman, shook his head, and laughed 
at every one of them ; and said, “ I tell you what, Master Red- 
mond, you appear a young fellow of birth and fortune, and let 
me whisper in your ear that you have fallen into very bad hands 
— it’s a regular gang of swindlers ; and a gentleman of your 
rank and quality should never be seen in such company. Go 
home : pack up your valise, pay the little trifle to me, mount 
your mare, and ride back again to your parents, — it’s, the very- 
best thing you can do.” 

In a pretty nest of villains, indeed, was I plunged ! It seemed 
as if all my misfortunes were to break on me at once ; for on going 
home and ascending to my. bedroom in a disconsolate way, 
I found the captain and his lady there before me, my valise 
open, my wardrobe lying on the ground, and my keys in the 
possession of the odious Fitzsimons. “ Whom have I been 
harboring in my house?” roared he, as I entered the apart- 
ment. Who are you, sirrah ? ”, 

“ Sirrah ! Sir,” said I, “ I am as good a gentleman as anv 
in Ireland.” 

“ You’re an impostor, young man : a schemer, a deceiver ! ” 
shouted the captain. 

“ Repeat the words again, and I will run you through the 
body,” replied I. « 

“ Tut, tut ! I can play at fencing as well as you, Mr. 
Redmond Barry. Ah ! you change colqr, do you — your secret 
is known, is it? You come like a viper into the bosom of 
innocent families ; you represent yourself as the heir of my 
friends the Redmonds of Castle Redmond ; I inthrojuice you 
to the nobility and genthry of this methropolis ” (the captain’s 
brogue was large, and his words, by preference, long) ; ‘ I 
take you to my tradesmen, who give you credit, and what do I 
find ? That you have pawned the goods which you took up at 
their houses.” • 

“ 1 have given them my acceptance, sir,” said I with a 
dignified air. 

“ Under what name , unhappy boy — under what name?” 
screamed Mrs. Fitzsimons ; and then, indeed, I remembered 
that I had signed the documents Barry Redmond instead of 
Redmond Barry : but what else could I do ? Had not my 
mother desired me to take no other designation ? After uttering 
a furious tirade against me, in which he spoke of the fatal dis- 
covery of my real name on my linen — of his misplaced confi- 
dence and affection, and the shame with which he should be 


1'HE MEMOIRS OF 


5 6 

obliged to meet his fashionable. friends and confess that he had 
harbored a swindler, he gathered up the linen, clothes, silver 
toilet articles, and the rest of my gear, saying that lie should 
step out that moment for an officer and give me up to the just 
revenge of the law. 

During the first part of his speech, the thought of the impru- 
dence of which I had been guilty, and the predicament in which 
I was plunged, had so puzzled and confounded me, that I had 
not uttered a word in reply to the fellow’s abuse, but had stood 
quite dumb before him. The sense of danger, however, at once 
roused me to action. “ Hark ye, Mr. Fitzimons,” said I ; “ I 
will tell you why I was obliged to alter my name : which is Barry, 
and the best name in Ireland. I changed it, sir, because, on 
the day before I came to Dublin, I killed a man in deadly 
combat — an Englishman, sir, and a captain in his Majesty’s 
service ; and if you offer to let or hinder me in the slightest way, 
the same arm which destroyed him is ready to punish you : and 
by heaven, sir you or I don’t leave this room alive ! ” 

So saying, I drew my sword like lightning, and giving a “ ha ! 
ha ! ” and a stamp with my foot, lunged within an inch of Fitz- 
simoivs heart, who started back and turned deadly pale, while 
his wife, with a scream, flung herself between us. 

“ Dearest Redmond,” she cried, “be pacified. Fitzsimons, 
you don’t want the poor child’s blood. Let him escape — in 
heaven’s name let him go.” 

•“ He may go hang for me,” said Fitzsimons sulkily ; “ and 
he’d better be off quickly, too, for the jeweller and the tailor 
have called once, and will be here again before long. It was 
Moses the pawnbroker that peached ; I had the news from him 
myself.” By which I conclude that Mr. Fitzsimons had been 
with the new-laced frock-coat which he procured from the mer- 
chant-tailor on the day when the latter first gave me credit. 

What was the end of our conversation ? Where was now a 
home for the descendant of the Barrys ? Home was shut to me 
by my misfortune in duel. I was expelled from Dublin by 
a persecution occasioned, I must confess, by my own impru- 
dence. I had no time to wait and choose : no place of refuge 
10 fly to. Fitzsimons, after his - abuse of me, left the room 
growling, but not hostile ; his wife insisted that we should shake 
hands, and he promised not to molest me. Indeed, I owed the 
fellow nothing ; and, on the contrary, had his acceptance 
actually in my pocket for money lost at play. As for my friend 
Mrs. Fitzsimons, she sat down on the bed and fairly burst out 
crving. She had her faults, but her heart was kind ; and though 


BARKY L YNDOX. ESQ. 


57 


she possessed but three shillings in the world, and fourpence 
in copper, the poor soul made me take it before i left her— to 
go — whither ? My mind was made up : there was a score of 
recruiting-parties in the town / beating up for men to join our 
gallant armies in America and Germany; I knew where to find 
one of these, having stood by the sergeant at a review in the 
Phoenix Park, where he pointed out to me characters on the 
field, for which I treated him to drink. 

I gave one of my shillings to Sullivan the butler of the Fitz- 
simonses, and, running into the street, hastened to the little 
alehouse at which my acquaintance was quartered, and before 
ten minutes had accepted his Majesty’s shilling. I told him 
frankly that I was a young gentleman in difficulties ; that I had 
killed an officer in a duel, and was anxious to get out of the 
country. But I need not have troubled myself with any expla- 
nations ; King George was too much in want of men then to 
heed from whence they came, and a fellow of my inches, the 
sergeant said, was always welcome. Indeed, I could not, he 
said, have chosen my time, better. A transport was lying at 
Dunleary, waiting for a wind, and on board that ship, to which 
I marched that night, 1 made some surprising discoveries which 
shall be told in the next chapter. 


CHAPTER IV. 

IN WHICH BARRY TAKES A NEAR VIEW OF MILITARY GLORY. 

I never had a taste for anything but genteel company, and 
hate all descriptions of low life. Hence my account of the 
society in which I at present found myself must of necessity be 
short; and, indeed, the recollection of it is profoundly disagree- 
able to me. Pah ! the reminiscences of the horrid black-hole 
of a place in which we soldiers were confined, of the wretched 
creatures. with whom I was now forced to keep company, of the 
ploughmen, poachers, pickpockets, who had taken refuge from 
poverty, or the law (as, in truth, I had done myself), is enough 
to make me ashamed even now, and it calls' the blush into my 
old cheeks to think I was ever forced to keep such company. 
T should have fallen into despair, but that, luckily, events oc- 


THE MEMOIRS OE 


5 * 

curred to rouse my spirits, and in some measure to console me 
for my misfortunes. 

The first of these consolations I had was a good quarrel, 
which took place on the day after my entrance into the trans- 
port-ship, with a huge red-haired monster of a fellow— a chair- 
man, who had enlisted to fly from a vixen of a wife, who, boxer 
as he was, had been more than a match for him. As soon as 
this fellow — Toole, I remember, was his name — got away from 
the arms of the washerwoman his lady, his natural courage and 
ferocity, returned, and he became the tyrant of all round about 
him. All recruits, especially, were the object of the brute’s in- 
sult and ill treatment. 

I had no money, as I said, and was sitting very disconsolately 
over a platter of rancid bacon and mouldy biscuit, which was 
served to us at mess, when it came to my turn to be helped to 
drink, and I was served, like the rest, with a dirty tin noggin, 
containing somewhat more than a half a pint of rum-and-water. 
The beaker was so greasy and filthy that I could not help turn- 
ing round to the messman and saying, “ Fellow, get me a glass ! ” 
At which all the wretches round about me burst into a roar of 
laughter, the very loudest among them being, of course, Mr. 
Toole. “ Get the gentleman a towel for his hands, and serve 
him a basin of turtle-soup,” roared the monster, who was sitting, 
or rather squatting, on the deck opposite me ; and as he spoke 
he suddenly seized my beaker of grog and emptied it, in the 
midst of another burst of applause. 

“ If you want to vex him, ax him about his wife the washer- 
woman, who bates him,” here whispered in my ear another 
worthy, a retired link-boy, who, disgusted with his profession, 
had adopted the military life. 

“ Is it a towel of your wife’s washing, Mr. Toole ? ” said I. 
“ I’m told she wiped your face often with one.” 

“ Ax him why he wouldn’t see her yesterday, when she came 
to the ship,” continued the link-boy. And so I put to him 
some other foolish jokes about soap-suds, henpecking, and flat- 
irons, which set the man into a fury, and succeeded in raising 
a quarrel between us. We should have fallen-to at once, but a 
couple of grinning marines, who kept watch at the door, for 
fear we should repent of our bargain and have a fancy to escape, 
came forward and interposed between us with fixed bayonets \ 
but the sergeant coming down the ladder and hearing the dis- 
pute, condescended to say that we might fight it out like men 
with fistes if we chose, and that the fore-deck should be free to 
us for that purpose. But the use of fistes, as the Englishman 


HARRY LYNDON, \ ESQ . 


59 


called them, was not then general in Ireland, and it was agreed 
that we should have a pair of cudgels ; with one of which 
weapons I finished the fellow in four minutes, giving him a 
thump across his stupid sconce which laid him lifeless on the 
deck, and not receiving myself a single hurt of consequence. 

This victory over the cock Of the vile dunghill obtained me 
respect among the wretches of whom I formed part, and served 
to set up my spirits, which otherwise were flagging ; and my 
position Was speedily made more bearable by the arrival on 
our ship of an old friend. This was no other than my second 
in the fatal duel which had sent me thus early out into the 
world, Captain Fagan. There was a young nobleman who had 
a company in our regiment (Gale’s Foot), and who, preferring 
the delights of the Mall and the clubs to the dangers of a rough 
campaign, had given Fagan the opportunity of an exchange ; 
which, as the latter had no fortune but his sword, he was glad 
to make. The sergeant Was putting us through our exercise on 
deck (the seamen and officers of the transport lookinggrinning 
on) when a boat came from the shore bringing our captain to 
the ship ; and thbugh I started and blushed red as he recognized 
me — a descendant of the Barrys — in this degrading posture, I 
promisb you that the sight of Fagan’s face was most welcome to 
me, for it assured me that a friend was near me. Before that 
I was so melancholy that I would certainly have deserted had 
I found the means, and had not the inevitable marines kept a 
watch to prevent any such escapes. Fagan gave me a wink of 
recognition, but offered no public token of acquaintance ; it was 
not until two days afterwards, and when we had bidden adieu 
to old Ireland and were standing out to sea, that he called me 
into his cabin, and then, shaking hands with me cordially, gave 
me news, which I much wanted, of my family. “ I had news of 
you in Dublin,” he said. “ ’Faith, you’ve begun early, like 
your father’s son ; and I think you could not do better than as 
you have done. But why did you not write home to your poor 
mother? She has sent a half-dozen letters to you at Dublin.” 

I said I had asked for letters at the post-office, but there 
w r ere none for Mr. Redmond. I did not like to add that I had 
been ashamed, after the first week, to write to my mother. 

“ We must write to her by the pilot,” said he, “who will 
leave us in two hours ; and you can tell her that you are safe, 
and married to Brown Bess.” . I sighed when he talked about 
being married ; on which he said, with a laugh, “ I see you are 
thinking of a certain young lady at Brady’s Town.” 

“ Is Miss Brady w r ell ? ” said I ; and indeed, could hardly 


6o 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


utter it, for 1 certainly was thinking about her ; for, though I 
had forgotten her in the gayeties of Dublin, I have always found 
adversity makes man very affectionate. 

“ There’s only seven Miss Bradys now,” answered Fagan, 
in a solemn voice. “ Poor Nora ” 

“ Good heavens ! what of her ? ” 1 thought grief had killed 

her. 

44 She took on so at your going away that she was obliged 
to console herself with a husband. She’s now Mrs. John 
Quin.” 

44 Mrs. John Quin ! Was there another Mr. John Quin? ”, 
asked I, quite wonder-stricken. 

“ No ; the very same one, my boy. He recovered from his 
wound. The ball you hit him with was not likely to hurt him. 
It- was only made of tow. Do you think the Brady’s would let 
you kill fifteen hundred a year out of the family ? ” And then 
Fagan further told me that, in order to get me out of the way 
— -for the cowardly Englishman could never be brought to marry 
from fear of me — the plan of the duel had been arranged. 
“ But hit him you certainly did, Redmond, and with aline thick 
plugget of tow y and the fellow was so frightened, that he was 
an hour in coming to. We told your mother the story after- 
wards, and a pretty scene she made ; she despatched a half- 
score of letters to Dublin after you, but I suppose addressed 
them to you in your real name, by which you never thought to 
ask for themr” 

“The coward ! ” said I (though, I confess, my mind was 
considerably relieved at the -thoughts of not having killed him). 
“ And did the Bradys of Castle Brady consent to admit a pol- 
troon like that into one of the most ancient and honorable 
families of the world ? ” 

“ He has paid off your uncle’s mortgage,” said Fagan ; “ he 
gives Nora a coach-and-six ; he is to sell out, and Lieutenant 
Ulick Brady of the Militia is to purchase his company. That 
coward of a fellow has been the making of your uncle’s family. 
’Faith ! the business was well done.” And then, laughing, he 
told me how Mick and Ulick had never let him out of their 
sight, although he was for deserting to England, until the mar- 
riage was completed and the happy couple off on their road to 
Dublin. “ Are you in want of cash, my boy ? ” continued the 
good-natured captain. “You may draw upon me, for I got a 
couple of hundred out of Master Quin for my share, and while 
they last yoti shall never want.” 

And so he bade me sit down and write a letter to my mother, 


BARRY LYN£>0!\\ ESQ. 


6 i 


which I did forthwith in very sincere and repentant terms, 
stating that I had been guilty of extravagances, that I had not 
known until that moment under what a fatal error I had been 
laboring, and that I had embarked for Germany as a volunteer. 
The letter was scarcely finished when the pilot sang out that he 
was going on shore ; and ho departed, taking with him, from 
many an anxious fellow besides myself, our adieux to friends in 
old Ireland. 

Although I was called Captain Barry for many years of my 
life, and have been known as such by the first people of Europe, 
yet I may as well confess I had no more claim to. the title than 
many a gentleman who assumes it, and never had a right to an 
epaulet, ox to any military decoration higher than a corporal’s 
stripe of worsted. I was made corporal by Fagan during our 
voyage to the Elbe, and my rank was confirmed on terra firing. 
I was promised a halbert, too, and afterwards, perhaps, an en- 
signcy, if I distinguished myself ; but Fate did not intend that 
I should remain long an English soldier; as shall appear pres- 
ently. Meanwhile, our passage was very favorable ; my adven- 
tures were told by Fagan to his brother officers, who treated 
me with kindness ; and my victory over the big chairman, pro- 
cured me respect from my comrades of the fore-deck. En- 
couraged and strongly exhorted by Fagan, I did my duty reso- 
lutely ; but, though affable' and good-humored with the men, 
I never at first condescended to associate with, such low fel- 
lows ; and, indeed, was called generally amongst them “ my 
lord.” I believe it was the ex-1 ink boy, a facetious knave, who 
gave me the title ; and I felt that I should become such a rank 
as well as any peer in the kingdom. 

It would require a greater philosopher and historian than I 
am to explain the causes of the famous Seven Years’ War in 
which Europe was engaged ; and, indeed, its origin has always 
appeared to me to be so complicated, and the books written 
about it so amazingly hard to understand, that I have seldom 
been much wiser at the end of a chapter than at the beginning, 
and so shall not trouble my reader with any personal dis- 
quisitions concerning the matter. All I know is, that after his 
Majesty’s love of his Hanoverian dominions had rendered him 
most unpopular in his English kingdom, with Mr. Pitt at the 
head of the anti-German war-party, all of a sudden, Mr. Pitt 
becoming Minister, the rest of the empire applauded the war 
as much as they had hated it before. The victories of Dettingen 
and Crefeld were in everybody’s mouths, and “ the Protestant 
hero,” as we used to call the godless old Frederick of Prussia, 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


was adored by us as a saint, a very short time after we had 
been about to make war against him in alliance with the 
Empress -queen. Now, somehow, we were on Frederick's side : 
the Empress, the French, the Swedes, and the Russians, were 
leagued against us ; and I remember, when the news of the 
battle of Lissa came even to our remote quarter of Ireland, we 
considered it as a triumph for the cause of Protestantism, and 
illuminated and bonfired, and had a sermon at church, and 
kept the Prussian king’s birthday ; on which my uncle would 
get drunk : as indeed on any other occasion. Most of the low 
fellows enlisted with myself were, of course, Papists, (the 
English army was filled with such, out of that never-failing 
country of ours,) and these, forsooth, were fighting the battles 
of Protestantism with Frederick ; who \vas belaboring the 
Protestant Swedes and the Protestant Saxons, as well as the 
Russians of the Greek Church, and the Papist troops of the 
Emperor and the King of France. It was against these latter 
that the English auxiliaries were employed, and we know that, 
be the quarrel what it may, an Englishman and a Frenchman 
are pretty willing to make a light of it. 

We landed at Cuxhaven, and before 1 had been a month in 
the Electorate I was transformed into a tall and proper young 
soldier, and having a natural aptitude for military exercise, was 
soon as accomplished at the drill as the oldest sergeant in the 
regiment. It is well, however, to dream of glorious war in a 
snug arm-chair at home ; ay, or to make it as an officer, sur- 
rounded by gentlemen, gorgeously dressed, and cheered by 
chances of promotion. But those chances do not shine on 
poor fellows in worsted lace : the rough texture of our red 
coats made me ashamed when I saw an officer go by ; my soul 
used to shudder when, on going the rounds, I would hear their 
voices as they sat jovially over the mess-table ; my pride re- 
volted at being obliged to plaster my hair with flour and candle- 
grease, instead of using the proper pomatum for a gentleman. 
Yes, my tastes have always been high and fashionable, and I 
loathed the horrid company in which 1 was fallen. What 
chances had I of promotion ? None of my relatives had money 
to buy me a commission, and I became soon so low-spirited, 
that I longed for a general action and a ball to finish me, and 
vowed that I would take some opportunity to desert. 

When I think that I, the descendant of the kings of Ireland, 
was threatened with a caning by a young scoundrel who had 
just joined from Eton College — when I think that he offered 
to make me his footman, and that I did not, on either occasion, 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 63 

murder him ! On the first occasion I burst into tears (I do not 
care to own it) and had serious thoughts of committing suicide, 
so great was my mortification. But my kind friend Fagan 
came to my aid in the circumstance, with some very timely con- 
solation. “My poor boy,” said he, “you must not take the 
matter to heart so. Caning is only a relative disgrace. Young 
Ensign Fakenham was flogged himself at Eton School only a 
month ago : I would lay a wager that his scars are not yet 
healed. You must cheer up, my boy ; do your duty, be a gentle- 
man, and no. serious harm can fall on you.”. And I heard 
afterwards that my champion had taken Mr. Fakenham very 
severely to task for this threat, and said to him that any such 
proceedings for the future he should consider as an insult to 
himself : whereon the young ensign was, for the moment, civil. 
As for the sergeants, I told one of them, that if any man struck 
me, no matter who he might be, or what the penalty, I would 
take his life. And, faith ! there was an air of sincerity in my 
speech which convinced the whole bevy of them ; and as long 
as I remained in the English service no rattan was ever laid 
on the shoulders of Redmond Barry. Indeed, I was in that 
savage, moody state, that my mind was quite made up to -the 
point, and I looked to hear my own dead march played as sure 
as I was alive. When I was made a corporal, some of my 
evils were lessened ; I messed with the sergeants by special 
favor, and used to treat them to drink, and lose money to the 
rascals at play : with which cash my good friend Mr. Fagan 
punctually supplied me. 

Our regiment, which was quartered about Stade and Lune- 
burg, speedily got orders to march southwards towards the 
Rhine, for news came that our great General, Prince Ferdinand 
of Brunswick, had been defeated — no, not defeated, but foiled in 
his attack upon the French under the Duke of Broglio, at 
Bergen, near Frankfort-on-the-Main, and had been obliged to fall 
back. As the allies retreated, the French rushed forward, and 
made a bold push for the Electorate of our gracious monarch 
in Hanover, threatening that they would occupy it ; as they had 
done before, when D’Estre'es beat the hero of Culloden, the 
gallant Duke of Cumberland, and caused him to sign the 
capitulation of Closter Zeven. An advance upon Hanover 
always caused a great agitation in the royal bosom of the King 
of England ; more troops were sent to join us, convoys of 
treasure were passed over to our forces, and to our ally's the 
King of Prussia ; and although, in spite of all assistance, the 
army under Prince Ferdinand was very much weaker than that 


6 4 


THE MEMOIRS OE 


of the invading enemy, yet we had the advantage of better 
supplies, one of the greatest Generals in the world : and, I was 
going to add, of British valor, but the less we say about that the 
better. My Lord George Sackville did not exactly cover himself 
with laurels at Minden ; otherwise there might have been won 
there one of the greatest victories of modern times. 

Throwing himself between the French and the interior 
of the Electorate, Prince Ferdinand wisely took possession of 
the free town of Bremen, which he made his store-house and 
place of arms ; and round which he gathered all his troops, 
making ready to fight the famous battle of Minden. 

Were these memoirs not characterized by truth, and did I 
deign to utter a single word for which my own personal ex- 
perience did not give me the fullest authority, I might easily 
make myself the hero of some strange and popular adventures, 
and, after the fashion of novel writers, introduce my readers to 
the great characters of this remarkable time. These persons 
(I mean the romance-writers), if they take a drummer or a dust- 
man for a hero, somehow manage to bring him in contact with 
the greatest lords and most notorious personages of the empire ; 
and I warrant me there’s not one of them but, in describing 
the battle of Minden, would manage to bring Prince Ferdinand, 
and my Lord George Sackville, and my Lord Granby, into 
presence. It would have been easy for me to have said I was 
present when the orders was brought to Lord George to charge 
with the cavalry and finish the rout of the Frenchmen, and 
when he refused to do so, and thereby spoiled the great 
victory. But the fact is, 1 was two miles off from the cavalry 
when his lordship’s fatal hesitation took place, and none of us 
soldiers of the line knew of what had occurred until we came 
to talk about the fight over our kettles in the evening, and re- 
pose after the labors of a hard fought day. I saw no one of 
higher rank that day than my colonel and a couple of orderly 
officers riding by in the smoke — no one on our side, that is. A 
poor corporal (as I then had the disgrace of being) is not gen- 
erally invited into the company of commanders and the great ; 
but, in revenge, I saw, I promise you, some very good company 
on the French part, for their regiments of Lorraine and Royal 
Cravate were charging us all day ; and in that sort of melee 
high and low are pretty equally received. I hate bragging, 
but I cannot help saying that I made a very close acquaintance 
with the Colonel of the Cravates ; for I drove my bayonet into 
his bodv, and finished off a poor little ensign, so young, 
slender, and small, that a blow from my pig-tail would have 


BARR Y L YNDON, \ ESQ. 65 

despatched him, I think, in place of the butt of my musket, with 
which I clubbed him down. I killed, besides, four more offi- 
cers and men, and in the poor ensign’s pocket found a purse of 
fourteen louis-d’or, and a silver box of sugar-plums ; of which 
the former present was very agreeable to me. If people 
would tell their stories of battles in this simple way, I think the 
cause of truth would not suffer by it. All I know of this famous 
fight of Minden (except from books) is told here above. The 
ensign’s silver bon-bon box and his purse of gold ; the livid face 
of the poor fello\yas he fell ; the huzzas of the men of my com- 
pany as I went out under a smart fire and rifled him ; their shouts 
and curses as we came hand in hand with the Frenchmen, — 
these are, in truth, not very dignified recollections, and had 
best be passed over briefly. When my kind friend Fagan was 
shot, a brother captain, and his very good friend, turned to 
Lieutenant Rawson and said, “ Fagan’s down ; Rawson, there’s 
your company.” It was all the epitaph my brave patron got. 
“ I should have left you a hundred guineas, Redmond,” were 
hfs last words to me, u but for a cursed run of ill luck last night 
at faro.” And he gave me a faint squeeze of the hand ; then, 
as the word was given to advance, I left him. When we came 
back to our old ground, which we presently did, he was lying 
there still ; but he was dead. Some of our people had already 
torn off his epaulets, and, no doubt, had rifled his purse. Such 
knaves and ruffians do men in war become! It is well for 
gentlemen to talk of the age of chivalry ; but remember the 
starving brutes whom they lead — men nursed in poverty, en- 
tirely ignorant, made to take a pride in deeds of blood — men 
who can have no amusement but in drunkenness, debauch, and 
plunder. It is with these shocking instruments that your 
great warriors and kings have been doing their murderous work 
in the world ; and while, for instance, we are at the present 
moment admiring the “ Great Frederick,” as we call him, and 
his philosophy, and his liberality, and his military genius, I, 
who have served him, and been, as it were, behind the scenes 
of which that great spectacle is composed, can only look at it 
with horror. What a number of items of human crime, misery, 
slavery, go to form that sum-total of glory ! I can recollect a 
certain day, about three weeks after the battle of Minden, and 
a farmhouse in which some of us entered ; and how the old 
woman and her daughters served us, trembling, to wine ; and 
how we got drunk over the wine and the house was in a flame, 
presently : and woe betide the wretched fellow afterwards who 
came home to look for his house and his children ! 

5 


66 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


CHAPTER V. 

IN WHICH BARRY TRIES TO REMOVE AS FAR FROM MILITARY 
GLORY AS POSSIBLE. 

After the death of my protector, Captain Fagan, I am 
forced to confess that I fell into the very worst of courses and 
company. Being a rough soldier of fortune himself, he had 
never been a favorite with the officers of his regiment ; who had 
a contempt for Irishmen, as Englishmen sometimes will have, and 
used to mock his brogue, and his blunt uncouth manners. I had 
been insolent to one or two of them, and had only been screened 
from punishment by his intercession : especially his successor, 
Mr. Rawson, had no liking for me, and put another man into the 
sergeant’s place vacant in his company after the battle of M in- 
den. This act of injustice rendered my service very disagree- 
able to me ; and, instead of seeking to conquer the dislike of 
my superiors, and win their good-will by good behavior, I only 
sought for means to make my situation easier to me, and 
grasped at all the amusements in my power. In a foreign coun- 
try, with the enemy before us, and the people continually under 
contribution from one side or the other, numberless irregular- 
ities were permitted to the troops which would not have been 
allowed in more peaceable times. I descended gradually to 
mix with the sergeants, and to share their amusements : drink- 
ing and gambling were, I am sorry to say, our principal pas- 
times ; and I fell so readily into their ways, that, though only a 
young lad of seventeen, I was the master of them all in daring 
wickedness ; though there were some among them, who, I 
promise you, were far advanced in the science of every kind of 
profligacy. I should have been under the provost-marshal’s 
hands, for a dead certainty, had I continued much longer in the 
army : but an accident occurred which took me out of the Eng- 
lish service in rather a singular manner. 

The year in which George II. died, our regiment had the 
honor to be present at the battle of Warburg (where the Mar- 
quis of Granby and his horse fully retrieved the discredit which 
had fallen upon the cavalry since Lord George Sackville’s de- 
falcation at Minden), and where Prince Ferdinand once more 
completely defeated the Frenchmen. During the action, my 
lieutenant, Mr. Fakenham, of Fakenham, the gentleman who 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


67 

had threatened me, it may be remembered, with the caning, was 
struck by a musket-ball in the side. He had shown no want 
of courage in this or any other occasion where he had been 
called upon to act against the French ; but this was his first 
wound, and the young gentleman w r as exceedingly frightened 
by it. ' He offered five guineas to be carried into the t<3wn, 
which was hard by ; and I and another man* taking him up in 
a cloak, managed to transport him into a place of decent ap- 
pearance, where we put him to bed, and where a young surgeon 
(who desired nothing better than to take himself out of the fire 
of the musketry) went presently to dress his w'ound. 

In order to get into the house, w r e had been obliged, it must 
be confessed, to fire into the locks with our pieces ; which sum- 
mons brought an inhabitant of the house to the door, a very 
pretty and black-eyed young woman, who lived there with her 
old half-blind father, a retired Jagd-meister of the Duke of Cas- 
sel, hard by. When the French w^ere in the town,Meinherr\s house 
had suffered like those of his neighbors ; and he was at first ex- 
ceedingly unwilling to accommodate his guests. But the first 
knocking at the door had the effect of bringing a speedy an- 
swer ; and Mr. Fakenham, taking a couple of guineas out of a 
very full purse, speedily convinced the people that they had 
only to deal with a person of honor. 

Leaving the doctor (who was very glad to stop) with his 
patient, who paid me the stipulated reward, I was returning to 
my regiment with my other comrade — after having paid, in my 
German jargon, some deserved compliments to the black-eyed 
beauty of Warburg, and thinking, with no small envy, how r 
comfortable it would be to be billeted there — when the private 
who w r as with me cut short my reveries, by suggesting that we 
should divide the five guineas the lieutenant had given me. 

“ Th^re is your share, ” said I, giving the fellow one piece ; 
which was plenty, as I was the leader of the expedition. But 
he swore a dreadful oath that he would have half ; and, when I 
told him to go to a quarter which I shall not name, the fellow, 
lifting his musket, hit me a blow with the butt-end of it, which 
sent me lifeless to the ground : when I awoke from my trance, 
I found myself bleeding with a large wound in the head, and 
had barelv time to stagger back to the house where I had left 
the lieutenant, when I again fell fainting at the door. 

Here I must have been discovered by the surgeon on his 
issuing out ; for when T awoke a second time I found myself in 
the ground-floor room of the house, supported by the black-eyed 
girl, while the surgeon w r as copiously bleeding me at the arm. 


68 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


There was another bed in the room where the lieutenant had 
been laid, — it was that occupied by Gretel, the servant ; while 
Lischen, as my fair one was called, had, till now, slept in the 
couch where the wounded officer lay. 

“Who are you putting into that bed ? ” said he, languidly, 
in German ; for the ball had been extracted from his side with 
much pain and Loss of blood. 

They told him it was the corporal who had brought him. 

“ A corporal ? ” said he, in English ; “ turn him out.” And 
you may be sure I felt highly complimented by the words. But 
we were both too faint to compliment or to abuse each other 
much, and I was put to bed carefully ; and, on being undressed, 
had an opportunity to find that my pockets had been rifled by 
the English soldier after he had knocked me down. However, 
I was in nood quarters : the young lady who sheltered me 
presently brought me a refreshing drink ; and, as I took it, I 
could not help pressing the kind hand that gave it me ; nor, in 
truth, did this token of my gratitude seem unwelcome. 

This intimacy did not decrease with further acquaintance. 
I found Lischen the tenderest of nurses. Whenever any delicacy 
was to be provided for the wounded lieutenant, a share was al- 
ways sent to the bed opposite his, and to the avaricious man’s 
no small annoyance. His illness was long. On the second 
day the fever declared itself ; for some nights he was delirious ; 
and I remember it was when a commanding officer was inspect- 
ing our quarters, with an intention, very likely, of billeting him- 
self on the house, that the howling and mad words of the pa- 
tient overhead struck him, and he retired rather frightened. I 
had been sitting up very comfortably in the lower apartment, 
for my hurt was quite subsided ; and it was only when the 
officer asked me with a rough voice, why I was not at my regi- 
ment, that I began to reflect how pleasant my quarters were to 
me, and that I was much better here than crawling \mder an 
odious tent with a parcel of tipsy soldiers, or going the night- 
rounds, or rising long before daybreak for drill. 

The delirium of Mr. Fakenham gave me a hint, and I de- 
termined forthwith to go mad. There was a poor fellow about 
Brady’s Town called “ Wandering Billy,” whose insane pranks 
• I had often mimicked as a lad, and I again put them in prac- 
tice. That night I made an attempt upon Lischen, saluting her 
with a yell and a grin which frightened her almost out of her 
wits ; and when anybody came I was raving. The blow on the 
head had disordered my brain ; the doctor was ready to vouch 
for this fact. One night I whispered to him that I was Julius 


BARR Y L VjVDOA', ESQ. 


6 9 

Cassar, and considered him to be my affianced wife Queen 
Cleopatra, which convinced him of my insanity. Indeed, if her 
Majesty had been like my ^Esculapius, she must have had a 
carroty beard, such as is rare in Egypt. 

A movement on the part of the French speedily caused an 
advance on our part. The town was evacuated, except by a 
few Prussian troops, whose surgeons were to visit the wounded 
in the place ; and, when we were well, we were to be drafted 
to our regiments. I determined that I never would join mine 
again. My intention was to make for Holland, almost the only 
neutral country of Europe in these times, and thence to get 
a passage somehow to England, and home to dear old Brady’s 
Town. 

If Mr. Fakenham is now alive I here tender my apologies 
for my conduct to him. He was very rich ; he used me very 
ill. I managed to frighten away his servant who came to attend 
him after the affair at Warburg, and from that time would some- 
times condescend to wait upon the patient, who always treated 
me with scorn ; but it was my object to have him alone, and I 
bore his brutality with the utmost civility and mildness, medi- 
tating in my own mind a very pretty return for all his favors 
to me. Nor was I the only person in the house to whom the 
worthy gentleman was uncivil. He ordered the fair Lischen 
hither and thither, made impertinent love to her, abused her 
soups, quarrelled with her omelettes, and grudged the money 
which was laid out for his maintenance ; so that our hostess 
detested him as much as, I think, without vanity, she regarded 
me. 

For, if the truth must be told, I had made a very deep love 
to her during my stay under her roof ; as is always my way with 
women, of whatever age or degree of beauty. To a man who 
has to make his way in the world, these dear girls can ahvays 
be useful in one fashion or another ; never mind, if they repel 
your passion : at any rate, they are not offended with your dec- 
laration of it, and only look upon you with more favorable eyes 
in consequence of your misfortune. As for Lischen, I told her 
such a pathetic story of my life (a tale a great deal more ro- 
mantic thanThat here narrated, — for I did not restrict myself 
to the exact truth in that history, as in these pages I am bound 
to do), that I won the poor girl’s heart entirely, and, besides, 
made considerable progress in the German language under her 
instruction. Do not think me very cruel and heartless, ladies ; 
this heart of Lischen’s was like many a town in the neighbor- 
hood in which she dwelt, and had been stormed and occupied 


TIIE MEMOIRS OF 


several times before I came to invest it ; now mounting French 
colors, now green and yellow Saxon, now black and white Prus- 
sian, as the case may be. A lady who sets her heart upon a lad 
in uniform must prepare to change lovers pretty quickly, or her 
life will be but a sad one. 

The German surgeon who attended us after the departure 
of the English only condescended to pay our house a visit twice 
during my residence ; and I took care, for a reason I had, to 
receive him in a darkened room, much to the annoyance of Mr. 
Fakenham, who lay there : but I said the light affected my eyes 
dreadfully since my blow on the head ; and so I covered up my 
head with clothes when the doctor came, and told him that I 
was an Egyptian mummy, or talked to him some insane non- 
sense, in order to keep up my character. 

“ What is that nonsense you were talking about an Egyptian 
mummy, fellow ?” asked Mr. Fakenham, peevishly. 

“Oh! you’ll know soon, sir,” said I. 

The next time that I expected the doctor to come, instead 
of receiving him in a darkened room, with handkerchiefs muf- 
fled, I took care to be in the lower room, and was having a 
game at cards with Lischen as the surgeon entered. I had 
taken possession of a dressing-iacket of the lieutenant’s, and 
some other articles of his wardrobe, which fitted me pretty well, 
and, I flatter myself, was no ungentlemanlike figure. 

“ Good-morrow, corporal,” said the doctor, rather gruffly, 
in reply to my smiling salute. 

“ Corporal ! Lieutenant, if you please,” answered I, giving 
an arch look at Lischen, whom I had not yet instructed in my 
plot. 

“ How lieutenant ? ” asked the surgeon. “ I thought the 
lieutenant was ” 

“ Upon my word, you do me great honor,” cried I, laughing ; 
“you mistook me for the mad corporal up stairs. The fellow 
has once or twice pretended to be an officer, but my kind hostess 
here can answer which is which.” 

“ Yesterday he fancied he was Prince Ferdinand,” said 
Lischen ; “ the day you came he said he was an Egyptian 
mummy.” 

“ So he did,” said the doctor ; “ I remember : but, ha ! ha ! 
do you know, lieutenant, I have in my notes made a mistake in 
you two ? ” 

“ Don’t talk to me about his malady ; he is calm now.” 

Lischen and 1 laughed at this error as at the most ridiculous 
thing in the world ; and, when the surgeon went up to examine 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


7 * 


his patient, I cautioned him not to talk to him about the sub- 
ject of his malady, for he was in a very excited state. 

The reader will be able to gather from the above conversa- 
tion what my design really was. I was determined to escape, 
and to escape under the character of Lieutenant Fakenham ; 
taking it from him to his face, as it were, and making use of it 
to meet my imperious necessity. It was forgery and robbery, 
if you like ; for I took all his money and clothes, — I don’t care 
to conceal it ; but the need was so urgent, that I would do so 
again : and I knew I could not effect my escape without his 
purse, as well as his name. Hence it became my duty to take 
possession of one and the other. 

As the lieutenant lay still in bed up stairs, I did not hesitate 
at all about assuming his uniform, especially after taking care 
to inform myself from the doctor whether any men of ours who 
might know me were in the town. But there were none that I 
could hear of ; and so I calmly took my walks with Madame 
Lischen, dressed in the lieutenant’s uniform, made inquiries as 
to a horse that I wanted to purchase, reported myself to the 
commandant of the place as Lieutenant Fakenham, of Gale's 
English regiment of foot, convalescent, and was asked to dine 
with the officers of the Prussian regiment at a very sorry mess 
they had. How Fakenham would have stormed and raged, had 
he known the use I was making of his name ! 

Whenever that worthy used to inquire about his clothes, 
which he did with many oaths and curses that he would have 
me caned at the regiment for inattention, I, with a most re- 
spectful air, informed him that they were put away in perfect 
safety below ; and, in fact, had them very neatly packed, and 
ready for the day when I proposed to depart. His papers and 
money, however, he kept under his pillow ; and, as I had pur- 
chased a horse, it became necessary to pay for it. 

At a certain hour, then, I ordered the animal to be brought 
round, when I would pay the dealer for him — (I shall pass 
over my adieux with my kind hostess, which were very tearful 
indeed) — and then, making up my mind to the great action, 
walked up stairs to Fakenham’s room attired in his full regi- 
mentals, and with his hat cocked over my left eye. 

“ You gre at scound7#el ! ” said he, with a multiplicity of 
oaths ; “ you mutinous dog ! what do you mean by dressing 
yourself in my regimentals ? As sure as my name’s Fakenham, 
when we get back to the regiment, I’ll have your soul cut out 
of your body.” 

“ I'm promoted, lieutenant,” said 1, with a sneer. I’m come 


7 * 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


to take my leave of you ; ” and then going up to his bed. I said, 
“ I intend to have your papers and purse.” With this I put my 
hand under his pillow ; at which he gave a scream that might 
have called the whole garrison about my ears. “ Hark ye, sir ! ” 
said I, “no more noise, or you are a dead man ! ” and taking a 
handkerchief, I bound it tight around his mouth so as well-nigh 
to throttle him, and, pulling forward the sleeves of his shirt, 
tied them in a knot together, and so left him ; removing the pa- 
pers and the purse, you may be sure, and wishing him politely a 
good-day. 

“ It is the mad corporal,” said I to the people down below 
who were attracted by the noise from the sick man’s chamber ; 
and so taking leave of the old blind Jagd-meister, and an adieu (I 
will not say how tender) of his daughter, I mounted my newly 
purchased animal ; and, as I pranced away, and the sentinels 
presented arms to me at the town-gates, felt once more that I 
was in my proper sphere, and determined never again to fall 
from the rank of a gentleman. 

I took at first the way towards Bremen, where our army was, 
and gave out that I was bringing reports and letters from. the 
Prussian commandant of Warburg to head-quarters ; but, as 
soon as I got out of sight of the advanced sentinels, I turned 
bridle and rode into the Hesse-Cassel territory, which is luckily 
not very far from Warburg : and I promise you I was very glad 
to see the blue-and-red stripes on the barriers, which showed 
me that I was out of the land occupied by our countrymen. I 
rode to Hof, and the next day to Cassel, giving out that I was 
the bearer of despatches to Prince Henry, then on the Lower 
Rhine, and put up at the best hotel of the place, where the 
field-officers of the garrison had their ordinary. These gentle- 
men 1 treated to the best wines that the house afforded, for I 
was determined to keep up the character of the English gentle- 
man, and I talked to them about my English estates with a 
fluency that almost made me believe in the stories which I in- 
vented. I was even asked to an assembly at Wilhelmshohe, 
the Elector’s palace, and danced a minuet there with the Hof- 
marshal’s lovely daughter, and lost a few pieces to his excel- 
lency the first hunt-master of his Highness. 

At our table at the inn there was a Prussian officer who 
treated me with great civility, and asked me a thousand ques- 
tions about England ; which I answered as best I might. But 
this best, I am bound to say, was bad enoughc I knew nothing 
about England, and the court, and the noble families there ; 
but, led away by the vain-gloriousness of youth (and a propen- 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


73 


sity which I possessed in my early clays, but of which I have 
long since corrected myself, to boast and talk in a manner not 
altogether consonant with truth), I invented a thousand stories 
which I told him; described the King and the Ministers to him, 
said the British ambassador at Berlin was my uncle, and 
promised my acquaintance a letter of recommendation to him. 
When the officer asked me my uncle’s name, I was not able to 
give him the real name, and so said his name was O’Grady : it 
is as good a name as any other, and those of Kilballyowen, 
county Cork, are as good a family as any in the world, as I have 
heard. As for stories about my regiment, of these, of course, 
I had no lack. I wish my other histories had been equally 
authentic. 

On the morning I left Cassel, my Prussian friend came to 
me with an open smiling countenance, and said he, too, was 
bound for Dusseldorf, whither I said my route lay ; and so lay- 
ing our horses’ heads together we jogged on. The country was 
desolate beyond description. The prince in whose dominions 
we were was known to be the most ruthless seller of men in 
Germany. He would sell to any bidder, and during the five 
years which the war (afterwards called the Seven Years’ War) 
had now lasted, had so exhausted the males of his principality, 
that the fields remained untilled : even the children of twelve 
years old were driven off to the war, and I saw herds of these 
wretches marching forwards, attended by a few troopers, now 
under the guidance of a red-coated Hanoverian sergeant, now 
with a Prussian sub-officer accompanying them ; with some of 
whom my companion exchanged signs of recognition. 

“ It hurts my feelings,” said he, “to be obliged to commune 
with such wretches ; but the stern necessities of war demand 
men continually, and hence these lecruiters whom you see 
market in human flesh. They get five-and-twenty dollars a man 
from our government for every man they bring in. For fine 
men — for men like you,” he added, laughing, “we would go as 
high as a hundred. In the old king’s time we would have 
given a thousand for you, when he had his giant regiment that 
our present monarch disbanded.” 

“ I knew one of them,” said I, “ who served with you : we 
used to call him Morgan Prussia.” 

“ Indeed ! and who was this Morgan Prussia ? ” 

“ Why, a huge grenadier of ours, who was somehow snapped 
up in Hanover by some of your recruiters.” 

“The rascals!” said my friend, “and did they dare take an 
Englishman ? ” 


74 


THE MEMOIRS OE 


“'Faith this was an Irishman, and rr* great deal too sharp 
for them; as you shall hear. Morgan was taken, then, and 
drafted into the giant guard, and was the biggest man almost 
among all the giants there. Many of these monsters used to 
complain of their life, and their caning, and their long drills, 
and their small pay ; but Morgan was not one of the grumblers. 
'It’s a deal better/- said he, ‘to get fat here in Berlin than to 
starve in rags in Tipperary ! ’ ” 

“ Where is Tipperary ? ” asked my companion. 

“ That is exactly what Morgan’s friends asked him. It is a 
beautiful district in Ireland, the capital of which is the mag- 
nificent city of Clonmel : a city, let me tell you, sir, only inferior 
to Dublin and London, and far more sumptuous than any on 
the Continent. Well, Morgan said that his birthplace was near 
that city, and the only thing which caused him unhappiness, in 
his present situation, was the thought that his brothers were still 
starving at home, when they might be so much better off in his 
Majesty’s service. 

‘“’Faith/ says Morgan to the sergeant, to whom he im- 
parted the information, ‘ it’s my brother Bin that would make 
the fine sergeant of the guards, entirely ! ’ 

“ ‘ Is Ben as tall as you are ? * asked the sergeant. 

“ ‘As tall as me , is it? Why, man, I’m the shortest oi my 
family ! There’s six more of us, but Bin’s the biggest of all. 
Oh ! out and out the biggest. Seven feet in his stocking//, as 
sure as my name’s Morgan ! ’ 

“ ‘ Can’t we send and fetch them over, these brothers of 
yours ? ’ 

“ ‘ Not you. Ever since I was seduced by one of you gentle- 
men of the cane, they’ve a mortal aversion to all sergeants/ 
answered Morgan : ‘ but it’s a pity they cannot come too. What 
a monster Bin would be in a grenadier’s cap ! ’ 

“ He said nothing more at the time regarding his brothers, 
but only sighed as if lamenting their hard fate. However, the 
story was told by the sergeant to the officers, and by the officers 
to the King himself ; and his Majesty was so inflamed by curi- 
osity, that he actually consented to let Morgan go home in 
order to bring back with him his seven enormous brothers.” 

“ And were they as4}ig as Morgan pretended ? ” asked my 
comrade. I could not help laughing at his simplicity. 

“ Do you suppose,” cried I, “ that Morgan ever came back ? 
No, no ; once free, he was too wise for that. He has bought a 
snug farm in Tipperary with the money that was given him to 
secure his brothers ; and I fancy few men of the guards ever 
profited co much bv it.” 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ . 


75 


The Prussian captain laughed exceedingly at this story, said 
that the English were the cleverest nation in the world, and, on 
my setting him right, agreed that the Irish were even more so. 
We rode on very well pleased with each other ; for he had a 
thousand stories of the war to tell, of the skill and gallantry of 
Frederick, and the thousand escapes, and victories, and defeats 
scarcely less glorious than victories, through which the King 
had passed. Now that I was a gentleman, I could listen with 
admiration to these tales : and yet the sentiment recorded at 
the end of the last chapter was uppermost in my mind but three 
weeks back, when I remembered that it was the great general 
got the glory, and the poor soldier only insult and the cane. 

“ By the way, to whom are you taking despatches ? ” asked 
the officer. 

It was another ugly question, which I determined to answer 
at hap-hazard ; and so I said, “To General Rolls.” I had 
seen the general a year before, and gave the first name in my 
head. My friend was quite satisfied with it, and we continued 
our ride until evening came on; and our horses being weary, 
it was agreed that we should come to a halt. 

“ There is a very good inn,” said the captain, as we rode 
up to what appeared to me a very lonely-looking place. 

“ This may be a very good inn for Germany,” said I, “but 
it would not pass in old Ireland. Corbach is only a league off *. 
let us push on for Corbach.” 

“ Do you want to see the loveliest woman in Europe ? ” said 
the officer. “Ah ! you sly rogue, I see that will influence you : ” 
and, truth to say, such a proposal was always welcome to me, 
as I don’t care to own. “ The people are great farmers,” said 
the captain, “ as well as inn-keepers ; ” and, indeed, the place 
seemed more a farm than an inn-yard. We entered by a great 
gate into a court walled round, and at one end of which was the 
building, a dingy ruinous place. A couple of covered wagons 
were in the court, their horses were littered under a shed hard 
by, and lounging about the place were some men, and a pair of 
sergeants in the Prussian uniform, who both touched their hats 
to my friend the captain. This customary formality struck me 
as nothing extraordinary ; but the aspect of the inn had some- 
thing exceedingly chilling and forbidding in it, and I observed 
the men shut to the great yard-gates as soon as we were entered. 
Parties of French horsemen, the captain said, were about the 
country, and one could not take too many precautions against 
such villains. 

We went in to supper, after the two sergeants had taken 


THE MEMOIR OF 


76 

i charge of our horses ; the captain also ordering one of them 
to take my valise to my bed-room. I promised the worthy 
fellow a glass of schnapps for his pains. 

A dish of fried eggs and bacon was ordered from a hideous 
old wench that came to serve us, in place of the lovely creature 
I had expected to see ; and the captain, laughing, said, “Well, 
our meal is a frugal one, but a soldier has many a time a worse : ” 
and, taking off his hat, sword-belt, and gloves, with great cere- 
mony, he sat down to eat. I would not be behindhand with 
him in politeness, and put my weapon securely on the old chest 
of drawers where his was laid. 

The hideous old woman before mentioned brought us in a 
pot of very sour wine, at which and at her ugliness I felt a con- 
siderable ill humor. 

“ Where’s the beauty you promised me ? ” said I, as soon as 
the old hag had left the room. 

“ Bah ! ” said he, laughing, and looking hard at me: “it 
was my joke. I w r as tired, and did not care to go farther. 
There’s no prettier woman here than that. If she won’t suit 
your fancy, my friend, you must wait a while.” 

This increased my ill humor. 

“Upon my word, sir,” said I, sternly, “I think you have 
acted very coolly ! ” 

“ I have acted as I think fit 1 ” replied the captain. 

“ Sir,” said I, “ I’m a British officer ! ” 

“ It’s a lie ! ” roared the other, “you’re a deserter ! You’re 
an impostor, sir ; I have known you for such these three hours. 
I suspected you yesterday. My men heard of a man escaping 
from Warburg, and I thought you were the man. Your lies 
and folly have confirmed me. You pretend to carry despatches 
to a general who has been dead these ten months : you have 
an uncle who is an ambassador, and whose name forsooth you 
don’t know. Will you join and take the bounty, sir, or will you 
be given up ? ” 

“ Neither ! ” said I, springing at him like a tiger. But, agile 
as I was, he was equally on his guard. He took two pistols 
out of his pocket, fired one off, and said, from the other end of 
the table where he stood dodging me, as it were, — 

“ Advance a step, and I send this bullet into your brains ! ” 
In another minute the door was flung open, and the two ser- 
geants entered, armed with musket and bayonet to aid their 
comrade. 

The game was up. I flung down a knife with which I had 
armed myself ; for the old hag on bringing in the wine had re- 
moved my sword. 


BARR Y L Y.VDOjV, ESQ. 


77 


“ I volunteer,” said I. 

“ That’s my good fellow. What name shall I put on my 
list ? ” 

“ Write Redmond Barry of Bally Barry,” said I, haughtily ; 
“ a descendant of the Irish kings ! ” 

“ I was once with the Irish brigade, Roche’s,” said the re- 
cruiter, sneering, “ trying if I could get any likely fellows 
among the few countrymen of yours that are in the brigade, 
and there was scarcely one of them that was not descended 
from the kings of Ireland.” 

“ Sir,” said I, “ king or not, I am a gentleman, as you can 
see.” 

“ Oh ! you will find plenty more in our corps,” answered the 
captain, still in the sneering mood. “ Give up your papers, 
Mr. Gentleman, and let us see who you really are.” . 

As my pocket-book contained some bank-notes as well as 
papers of Mr. Fakenham’s, I was not willing to give up my 
property ; suspecting very rightly that it was but a scheme on 
the part of the captain to get and keep it. 

“ It can matter very little to you,” said I, “ what my private 
papers are : I am enlisted under the name of Redmond Barry.” 

“ Give it up, sirrah ! ” said the captain, seizing his cane. 

“ I will not give it up ! ” answered I. 

“ Hound ! do you mutiny ? ” screamed he, and, at the same 
time, gave me a lash across the face with the cane, which had 
the anticipated effect of producing a struggle. I dashed for- 
ward to grapple with him, the two sergeants flung themselves 
on me, I was thrown to the ground and stunned again ; being 
hit on my former wound in the head. It was bleeding severely 
when I came to myself, my laced coat was already torn off my 
back, my purse and papers gone, and my hands tied behind my 
back. 

The great and illustrious Frederick had scores of these 
white slave-dealers all round the frontiers of his kingdom, de- 
bauching troops or kidnapping peasants and hesitating at no 
crime to supply those brilliant regiments of his with food for 
powder ; and I cannot help telling here, with some satisfaction, 
the fate which ultimately befell the atrocious scoundrel who, 
violating all the rights of friendship and good-fellowship, had 
just succeeded in entrapping me. This individual was a per- 
son of high family and known talents and courage, but who had 
a propensity to gambling and extravagance, and found his call- 
ing as a recruit-decoy far more profitable to him than his pay 
of second captain in the line. The sovereign, too, probably 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


7 * 

found his services more useful in the former capacity. His 
name was Monsieur de Galgenstein, and he was one of the 
most successful of the practisers of his rascally trade. He 
spoke all languages, and knew all countries, and hence had no 
difficulty in finding out the simple braggadocio of a young lad 
like me. 

About 1765, however, he came to his justly merited end. 
He was at this time living at Ivehl, opposite Strasburg, and 
used to take his walk upon the bridge there, and get into con- 
versation with the French advanced sentinels ; to whom he was 
in the habit of promising “ mountains and marvels,” as the 
French say, if they would take service in Prussia. One day 
there was on the bridge a superb grenadier, whom Galgenstein 
accosted, and to whom he promised a company, at least, if he 
would enlist under Frederick. . 

“Ask my comrade yonder,” said the grenadier; “I can do 
nothing without him. We were born and bred together, we 
are of the same company, sleep in the same room, and always 
go in pairs. If he will go and you will give him a captaincy, I 
will go too.” 

“ Bring your comrade over to Kehl,” said Galgenstein, de- 
lighted. “ I will give you the best of dinners, and can promise 
to satisfy both of you.” 

“ Had you not better speak to him on the bridge ? ” said 
the grenadier. “ I dare not leave my post ; but you have but 
to pass, and talk over the matter.” 

Galgenstein, after a little parley, passed the sentinel ; but 
presently a panic took him, and he retraced his steps. But the 
grenadier brought his bayonet to the Prussian’s breast and 
bade him stand : that he was his prisoner. 

The Prussian, however, seeing his danger, made a bound 
across the bridge and into fhe Rhine ; whither, flinging aside 
his musket, the intrepid sentry followed him. The Frenchman 
was the better swimmer of the two, seized upon the recruiter, 
and bore him to the Strasburg side of the stream, where he 
gave him up. 

“ You deserve to be shot,” said the general to him, “ for 
abandoning your post and arms ; but you merit reward for an 
act of courage and daring. The king prefers to reward you,” 
and the man received money and promotion. 

As for Galgenstein, he declared his quality as a nobleman 
and a captain in the Prussian service, and applications were 
made to Berlin to know if his representations were true. But 
the king, though he employed men of this stamp (officers to 


BARR Y L YNDOA\ KSQ. 


79 


seduce the subjects of his allies), could not acknowledge his 
own shame. Letters were written back from Berlin to say that 
such a family existed in the kingdom, but that the person rep- 
resenting himself to belong to it must be an impostor, for 
every officer of the name was at his regiment and his post. 
It was Galgenstein’s death-warrant, and he was hanged as a 
spy' in Strasburg. 

J % * * # # * * 

“ Turn him into the cart with the rest/' said he, as soon as 
I awoke from my trance. 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE 'CRIMP WAGON MILITARY EPISODES. 

The covered wagon to which I was ordered to march was 
standing, as I have said, in the courtyard of the farm, with an- 
other dismal vehicle of the same kind hard by it. Each was 
pretty well filled with a crew of men, whom the atrocious crimp 
who had seized upon me had enlisted under the banners of the 
glorious Frederick ; and I could see by the lanterns of the 
sentinels, as they thrust me into the straw, a dozen dark figures 
huddled together in the horrible moving prison where 1 was 
now to be confined. A scream and a curse from my opposite 
neighbor showed me that he was most likely wounded, as I 
myself was ; and, during the whole of the wretched night, the 
moans and sobs of the poor fellows in similar captivity kept up 
a continual painful chorus, which effectually prevented my get- 
ting any relief from my ills in sleep. At midnight (as far as 
I could judge) the horses were put to the wagons, and the creak- 
ing, lumbering machines were put in motion. A couple of soldiers, 
strongly armed, sat on the outer bench of the cart, and their 
grim faces peered in with their lanterns every now and then 
through the canvas curtains, that they might count the number 
of their prisoners. The brutes were half drunk, and were 
singing love and war songs, such as “ O Gretchen mein Taiib- 
chen, mein Herzenstrompet, Mein Kanon, mein Heerpauk und 
meine Musket," “ Prinz Eugen der edle Ritter," and the like ; 
their wild whoops and jodels making doleful discord with the 


So 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


groans of us captives within the wagons. Many a time after 
wards have I heard these ditties sung on the march, or in the 
oarrack-room, or round the fires as we lay out at night. 

I was not near so unhappy, in spite of all, as I had been on 
my first enlisting in Ireland. At least, thought I, if I am de- 
graded to be a private soldier, there will be no one** of my ac- 
quaintance who will witness my shame ; and that is the point which 
I have always cared for most. There will be no one to say, 
‘ There is young Redmond Barry, the descendant of the Bar- 
rys, the fashionable young blood of Dublin, pipeclaying his 
belt and carrying his brown Bess.” Indeed, but for that 
opinion of the world, with which it is necessary that every man 
of spirit should keep upon equal terms, I, for my part, would 
have always been contented with the humblest portion. Now 
here, to all intents and purposes, one was as far removed from 
the world as in the wilds of Siberia, or in Robinson Crusoe’s 
island. And I reasoned with myself thus : — “ Now you are 
caught, there is no use in repining : make the best of your 
situation, and get all the pleasure you can out of it. There 
are a thousand opportunities of plunder, etc., offered to the 
soldier in war-time, out of which he can get both pleasure and 
profit : make use of these, and be happy. Besides, you are 
extraordinarily brave, handsome, and clever : and who knows 
but you may procure advancement in your new service ? ” 

In this philosophical way I looked at my misfortunes, deter- 
mining not to be cast down .by them ; and bore my woes and 
my broken head with perfect magnanimity. The latter was, for 
the moment, an evil against which it required no small powers 
of endurance to contend ; for the jolts of the wagon were 
dreadful, and every shake caused a throb in my brain which I 
thought would have split my skull. As the morning dawned, I 
saw that the man next me, a gaunt, yellow-haired creature, in 
black, had a cushion of straw under his head. 

“ Are you wounded, comrade ?” said I. 

“ Praised be the Lord,” said he, “ I am sore hurt in spirit 
and body, and bruised in many members ; wounded, however, 
am I not. And you, poor youth ? ” 

“ I am wounded in the head,” said I, “ and I want your 
pillow : give it me — I’ve a clasp-knife in my pocket ! ” and with 
this I gave him a terrible look, meaning to say (and mean it I 
did, for look you, a la guerre c'est a la guerre , and I am none of 
your milk-sops,) that, unless he yielded me the accommodation, 
I would give him a taste of my steel. 

“ I would give it thee without anv threat, friend,” said the 


BARRY LYNDON^ ESQ. 8 1 

yellow-haired man, meekly, and handed me over his little sack 
of straw. 

He then leaned himself back as comfortably as he could 
against the cart, and began repeating, “ Ein fester Burg ist 
unser Gott,” by which I concluded that I had got into the com- 
pany of a person. With the jolts of the wagon, and accidents 
of the journey, various more exclamations and movements of 
the passengers showed what a motley company we were. Every 
now and then a countryman would burst into tears ; a French 
voice would be heard to say, “ O mon Dieu ! — mon Dieu ! ” a 
couple more of the same nation were jabbering oaths and chat- 
tering incessantly; and a certain allusion to his own and every- 
body else’s eyes, which came from a stalwart figure at the far 
comer, told me that there was certainly an Englishman in our 
crew. 

But I was spared soon the tedium and discomforts of the 
journey. In spite of the clergyman’s cushion, my head, which 
was throbbing with pain, was brought abruptly in contact with 
the side of the wagon ; it began to bleed afresh ; I became 
almost light-headed. I only recollect having a draught of water 
here and there ; once stopping at a fortified town, where an 
officer counted us : — all the rest of the journey was passed in a 
drowsy stupor, from which, when I awoke, I found myself lying 
in a hospital bed, with a nun in a white hood watching over me. 

“ They are in sad spiritual darkness,” said a voice from the 
bed next to me, when the nun had finished her kind offices and 
retired : “ they are in the night of error, and yet there is the 
light of faith in those poor creatures.” 

It was my comrade of the crimp-wagon, his huge broad face 
looming out from under a white night-cap, and ensconced in the 
bed beside. 

“ What ! you there, Herr Pastor ? ” said I. 

“ Only a candidate, sir,” answered the white night-cap. “ But, 
praised be heaven ! you have come to. You have had a wild 
time of it. You have been talking in the English language 
(with which I am acquainted) of Ireland, and a young lady, and 
Mick, and of another young lady, and of a house on fire, and of 
the British Grenadiers, concerning whom you sung us parts of 
a ballad, and a number of other matters appertaining, no doubt, 
to your personal history.” 

“ It has been a very strange one,” said I ; “ and, perhaps, 
there is no man in the world, of my birth, whose misfortunes 
can at all be compared to mine.” 

I do not object to own that I am dbpesed to brag cf my 

6 


82 


THE MEMOIRS OE 


birth and other acquirements ; for I have always found that if 
a man does not give himself a good word, his friends will not do 
it for him. 

“ Well,” said my fellow-patient, “ I have no doubt yours is 
a strange tale, and shall be glad to hear it anon ; but at present 
you must not be permitted to speak much, for your fever has 
been long, and your exhaustion great.” 

“ Where are we ? ” I asked ; and the candidate informed 
me that we were in the bishopric and town of Fulda, at present 
occupied by Prince Henry's troops. There had been a skir- 
mish with an out-party of French near the town, in which a shot 
entering the wagon, the poor candidate had been wounded. 

As the reader knows already my history, I will not take the 
trouble to repeat it here, or to give the additions with which I 
favored my comrade in misfortune. But I confess that I told 
him ours was the greatest family and finest palace in Ireland, 
that we were enormously wealthy, related to all the peerage, 
descended from the ancient kings, & c. ; and, to my surprise, in 
the course of our conversation, I found that my interlocutor 
knew a great deal more about Ireland than 1 did. When, for 
instance, I spoke of my descent, — 

“ From which race of kings ? ” said he. 

“ Oh ! ” said I (for my memory for dates was never very ac- 
curate), “from the old ancient kings of all.” 

“What ! can you trace your origin to the sons of Japhet ? ” 
said he. 

“’Faith, I can,” answered I, “and farther too, — to Nebu- 
chadnezzar, if you like.” 

“ I see,” said the candidate, smiling, “that you look upon 
those legends with incredulity. These Partholans and Neme- 
dians, of whom your writers fondly make mention, cannot be 
authentically vouched for in history. Nor do I believe that we 
have any more foundation for the tales concerning them, than 
for the legends relative to Joseph of Arimathea and King Brute, 
which prevailed two centuries back in the sister island.” 

And then he began a discourse about the Phoenicians, the 
Scyths or Goths, the Tuath de Danans, Tacitus, and King 
MacNeil ; which was, to say the truth, the very first news 1 had 
heard of those personages. As for English, he spoke it as well 
as I, and had seven more languages, he said, equally at his com- 
mand ; for, on my quoting the only Latin line that I knew, that 
out of the poet Homer, which says, — 


As in priEsenti perfectum fumat in avi, ! 


BARRY L YNDON , , £^< 7 . 


§3 

he began to speak to me in the Roman tongue ; on which I was 
fain to tell him tha*t we pronounced it in a different way in Ire- 
land, and so got off the conversation. 

My honest friend’s history was a curious one, and it may be 
told here in order to show of what motley materials our levies 
were composed — 

“ I am,” said -he, “ a Saxon by birth, my father being pastor 
of the village of Pfannkuchen, where I imbibed the first rudi- 
ments of knowledge. At sixteen (I am now twenty-three), hav- 
ing mastered the Greek and Latin tongues, with the French, 
English, Arabic, and Hebrew ; and, having come into possession 
of a legacy of a hundred rix-dollars, a sum amply sufficient to de- 
fray my university courses, I went to the famous academy of 
Gottingen, where I devoted foyr years«to the exact sciences and 
theology. Also, I learned what worldly accomplishments I 
could command ; taking a dancing-tutor at the expense of a 
gfoschen a lesson, a course of fencing from a French practi- 
tioner, and attending lectures on the great horse and the 
equestrian science at the hippodrome of a, celebrated cavalry 
professor. My opinion is, that a man should know everything 
as far as in his power lies : that he should complete his cycle of 
experience ; and, one science being as necessary as another, it 
behoves him, according to his means, to acquaint himself with 
all. For many branches of personal knowledge (as distin- 
guished from spiritual ; though I am not prepared to say that 
the distinction is a correct one), I confess I have found myself 
inapt. I attempted tight-rope dancing, with a Bohemian artist 
who appeared at our academy ; but in this I failed, lamentably 
breaking my nose in the fall which 1 had. I also essayed to 
drive a coach-and-four, which an English student, Herr Graff 
Lord von Martingale, drove at the university. In this, too, I 
failed ; oversetting the chariot at the postern, opposite the Ber- 
liner gate, with his lordship’s friend, Fraulein Miss Kitty Godd- 
lins within. I had been instructing the young lord in- the Ger- 
man language when the above accident took place, and was 
dismissed by him in consequence. My means did not permit 
me further to pursue this curriculum (you will pardon me the 
joke), otherwise, I have no doubt, I should have been able to 
take a place in any hippodrome in the world, and to handle the 
ribbons (as the high well-born lord used to sav) to perfection. 

“ At the university I delivered a thesis on the quadrature of 
the circle, which, I think, would interest you ; and held a dis- 
putation in Arabic against Professor Strum pff, in which I was 
said to have the advantage. The languages of Southern Europe, 


S 4 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


of course, I acquired ; and, to a person well grounded in San- 
scrit, the Northern idioms offer no difficulty. If you have ever 
attempted the Russian you will find it child’s play ; and it will 
always be a source of regret to me that I have been enabled to 
get no knowledge (to speak of) of Chinese ; and, but for the 
present dilemma, I had intended to pass o?er into England for 
that purpose, and get a passage in one of the English com- 
pany’s ships to Canton. 

“ I am not of a saving turn, hence my litfle fortune of a 
hundred rixdollars, which has served to keep many a prudent 
man for a score of years, barely sufficed for five years’ studies ; 
after which my studies were interrupted, my pupils fell off, and 
I was obliged to devote much time to shoe-binding in order to 
save money, and, at a ^future period, resume my academic 
course. During this period I contracted an attachment ” (here 
the candidate sighed a little) “with a person, who, though not 
beautiful, and, forty years of age, is yet likely to sympathize 
with my existence ; and, a month since, my kind friend and 
patron, university pro rector, Doctor Nasenbrumm, having in- 
formed me that the Pfarrer of Rumpelwitz was dead, asked 
whether I would like to have my name placed upon the candi- 
date list, and if I were minded to preach a trial sermon ? As 
the gaining of this living would further my union with my 
Amalia, I joyously consented, and prepared a discourse. 

“ If you like 1 will recite it to you — No ? — Well, I will give 
you extracts from it upon our line of march. To proceed, then, 
with my biographical sketch, which is now very near a conclusion ; 
or, as I should more correctly say, which has very nearly brought 
me to the present period of time : I preached that sermon at 
Rumpelwitz, in which I hope that the Babylonian question was 
pretty satisfactorily set at rest. I preached it before the Herr 
Baron and . his noble family, and some officers of distinction 
who were staying at his castle. Mr. Doctor Moser of Halle 
followed me in the evening discourse ; but, though his exercise 
was learned, and he disposed of a passage of Ignatius, which he 
proved to be a manifest interpolation, I do not think his ser- 
mon had the effect which mine produced, and that the Rumpel- 
witzers much relished it. After the sermon, all the candidates 
walked out of church together, and supped lovingly at the ‘ Blue 
Stag’ in Rumpelwitz. « 

“ While so occupied, a waiter came in and said that a person 
without wished to speak to one of the reverend candidates, ‘the 
tall one.’ This could only mean me, for I was a head and 
shoulders higher than any other reverend gentleman present. 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ . 


85 

I issued out to see who was the person desiring to hold con- 
verse with me, and found a man whom I had no difficulty in 
recognizing as one of the Jewish persuasion. 

“ 4 Sir,’ said this Hebrew, 4 1 have heard from a friend, who 
was in your church to-day, the heads of the admirable discourse 
you pronounced there. It has affected me deeply, most deeply. 
There are only one or two points on which I am yet in doubt, 
and if your honor could but condescend to enlighten me on 
these, I think — I think Solomon Hirsch would be a convert to 
your eloquence.’ 

44 4 What are these points, my good friend ? ’ said I ; and I 
pointed out to him the twenty-four heads of my sermon, asking 
him in which of these his doubts lay. 

44 We had been walking up and down before the inn while 
our conversation took place, but the windows being open, and 
my comrades having heard the discourse in the morning, re- 
quested me, rather peevishly, not to resume it at that period. 
I, therefore, moved on with my disciple, and, at his request, be- 
gan at once the sermon ; for my memory is good for anything, 
and I can repeat any book I have read thrice. 

44 1 pourecl out, then, under the trees, and in the calm moon- 
light, that discourse which I had pronounced under the blazing 
sun of noon. My Israelite only interrupted me by exclamations 
indicative of surprise, assent, admiration, and increasing con- 
viction. 4 Prodigious !’ said he; — 4 Wunderschon ! ’ would he 
remark at the conclusion of some eloquent passage ; in a word, 
he exhausted the complimentary interjections of our language ; 
and to compliments what man is averse ? I think we must have 
walked two miles when I got to my third head, and my com- 
panion begged I would enter his house, which we now neared, 
and partake of a glass of beer ; to which I was never averse. 

44 That house, sir, was the inn at which you, too, if I judge 
aright, were taken. No sooner was I in the place, than three 
crimps rushed upon me, told me I was a deserter, and their 
prisoner, and called upon me to deliver up my money and 
papers ; which I did with a solemn protest as to my sacred 
character. They consisted of my sermon in MS., Prorector 
Nasenbrumm’s recommendatory letter, proving my identity, and 
three groschen four pfennigs in bullion. I had already been in 
the cart twenty hours when you reached the house. The 
French officer, who lay opposite you (he who screamed when 
you trod on his foot, for he was wounded), was brought in 
shortly before your arrival. He had been taken with his epaulets 
and regimentals, and declared his quality and rank ; but he was 


86 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


alone (I believe it was some affair of love with a Hessian lady 
which caused him to be unattended) ; and as the persons into 
whose hands lie fell will make more profit of him as a recruit 
than as d prisoner, he is made to share our fate. He is not the 
first by many scores so captured. One of M. de Soubise’s 
cooks, add three actors out of a troop in the French camp, 
several deserters from your English troops (the men are led 
away by being told that there is no flogging in the Prussian 
service), and three Dutchmen were taken besides. 1 ’ 

“ And you,” said I — “you who were just on the point of 
getting a valuable living, — you who have so much learning, are 
you not indignant at the outrage ? ” 

“ I am a Saxon,” said the candidate, “ and there is no use 
in indignation. Our government is crushed under Frederick’s 
heel these five years, and I might as well hope for mercy from 
the Grand Mogul. Nor am I, in truth, discontented with my 
lot ; I have lived on a penny bread for so many years, that a 
soldier’s radons will be a luxury to me. I do not care about 
more or less blows of a cane ; all such evils are passing, and 
therefore endurable. I will never, God willing, slay a man in 
combat ; but 1 am not unanxious to experience on myself the 
effect of the war-passion, which has had so great an influence 
on the human race. It was for the same reason that I deter- 
mined to marry Amalia, for a man is not a complete Mcnsch 
until he is the father of a family ; to be which is a condition of 
his existence, and therefore a duty of his education. Amalia 
must wait ; she is out of the reach of want, being, indeed, cook 
to the Frau Prorectorinn Nasenbrumm, my worthy patron’s 
lady. I have one or two books with me, which no one is likely 
to take from me, and one in my heart which is the best of all. 
If it shall please heaven to finish my existence here, before [ 
can prosecute my studies further, what cause have I to repine ? 
I pray God I may not be mistaken, but I think I have wronged 
no man, and committed no mortal sin. If I have, I know 
where to look for forgiveness ; and if I die, as I have said, 
without knowing all that I would desire to learn, shall I not be 
in a situation to learn everything, , and what can human soul ask 
for more ? 

“ Pardon me for putting so many 7's in my discourse,” said 
the candidate, “ but when a man is talking of himself, ’tis the 
briefest and simplest way of talking. 

In which, perhaps, though I hate egotism, I think my friend 
was right. Although he acknowledged himself to be a mean- 
spirited fellow, with no more ambition than to know the con- 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


S 7 


tents of a few musty books, I think the man had some good in 
him ; especially in the resolution with which he bore his 
calamities. Many a gallant man of the highest honor Js often 
not proof against these, and has been known to despair over a 
bad dinner, or to be cast down at a ragged-elbowed coat. My 
maxim is to bear all, to put up with water if you cannot get 
burgundy, and if you have no velvet, to be content with frieze. 
But burgundy and velvet are the best, him entendu , and the 
man is a fool who will not seize the best when the scramble is 
open. 

The heads of the sermon which my friend the theologian 
intended to impart to me, were, however, never told ; for, after 
our coming out of the hospital, he was drafted into a regiment 
quartered as far as possible from his native country, in 
Pomerania ; while I was put into the Biilow regiment, of 
which the ordinary head-quarters were Berlin. The Prussian 
regiments seldom change their garrisons as ours do, for the 
fear of desertion is so great, that it becomes necessary to know 
the face of every individual in the service ; and, in time of peace, 
men live and die in the same town. This does not add, as may 
be imagined, to the amusements of the soldier’s life. It is lest 
any young gentleman like myself should take a fancy to a 
military career, and fancy that of a private soldier a tolerable 
one, that I am giving these, I hope, moral descriptions of what 
we poor fellows in the ranks really suffered. 

As soon as we recovered, we were dismissed from the nuns 
and the hospital to the town prison of Fulda, where we were 
kept like slaves and criminals, with artillerymen with lighted 
matches at the doors of the court-yards, and the huge black 
dormitory where some hundreds of us lay ; until we were de- 
spatched to our different destinations. It was soon seen by the 
exercise which were the old soldiers amongst us, and which the 
recruits ; and for the former, while we lay in prison, there was 
a little more leisure : though, if possible, a still more strict 
watch kept than over the broken-spirited yokels who had been 
forced or coaxed into the service. To describe the characters 
here assembled would require Mr. Gilray’s own pencil. There 
were men of all nations and callings. The Englishmen boxed 
and bullied; the Frenchmen played 'cards, and danced and 
fenced ; the heavy Germans smoked their pipes and drank 
beer, if they could manage to purchase it. Those who had 
anything to risk gambled, and at this sport I was pretty lucky, 
for, not having a penny when I entered the depot (having been 
robbed of every farthing of my property by the rascally crimps), 


88 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


I won near a dollar in my very first game at cards with one of 
the Frenchmen ; who did not think of asking whether I could 
pay or # not upon losing. Such, at least, is the advantage of 
having a gentlemanlike appearance: it has saved me many a 
time since by procuring me credit when my fortunes were at 
their lowest ebb. 

Among the Frenchmen there was a splendid man and sol- 
dier, whose real name we never knew, but whose* ultimate his- 
tory created no small sensation, when it came to be known in 
the Prussian army. If beauty and courage are proofs of nobil- 
ity, as (although I have seen some of the ugliest dogs and the 
greatest cowards in the world in the noblesse) I have no doubt 
courage and beauty are, this Frenchman must have been of the 
highest families in France, so.grand and noble was his manner, 
so superb his person. He was not quite so tall as myself, fair, 
while I am dark, and, if possible, rather broader in the shoul- 
ders. He was the only man I ever met who could master me 
with the small-sword ; with which he would pink me four times 
to my three. As for the sabre, I could knock him to pieces 
with it ; and I could leap farther and carry more than he could. 
This, however, is mere egotism. This Frenchman, with whom 
I became pretty intimate — for we were the two cocks, as it 
were, of the depot, and neither had any feeling of low jealousy 
— was called, for want of a better name, Le Blondin, on ac- 
count of his complexion. He was not a deserter, but had come 
in from the Lower Rhine and the bishoprics, as I fancy ; for- 
tune having proved unfavorable to him at play probably, and 
other means of existence being denied him. I suspect that the 
Bastile was waiting for him in his own country, had he taken a 
fancy to return thither. 

He was passionately fond of play and liquor, and thus we 
had a considerable sympathy- together : when excited by one 
or the other, he became frightful. I, for my part, can bear, 
without wincing, both ill luck and wine ; hence my advantage 
over him was considerable in our bouts, and I won enough 
money from him to make my position tenable. He had a wife 
outside (who, I take it, was the cause of his misfortunes and 
separation from his family), and she used to be admitted to see 
him twice or thrice a week, and never came empty-handed — a 
little brown, bright-eyed creature, whose ogles had made the 
greatest impression upon all the world. 

This man was drafted into a regiment that was quartered at 
Neiss in Silesia, which is only at a short distance from the 
Austrian frontier ; he maintained always the same character 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


89 

for daring and skill, and was, in the secret republic of the regi- 
ment, which always exists as well as the regular military hier- 
archy, the acknowledged leader. He was an admirable soldier, 
as 1 have said ; but haughty, dissolute, and a drunkard. A 
man of this mark, unless he takes care to coax and flatter his 
officers (which I always did), is sure to fall out with them. Le 
Blondin’s captain was his sworn enemy, and his punishments 
were frequent and severe. 

His wife and the women of the regiment (this was after the 
peace) used to carry on a little commerce of smuggling across 
the Austrian frontier, where their dealings were winked at by 
both parties ; and in obedience to the instructions of her hus- 
band, this woman, from every one of her excursions, would 
bring in a little powder and ball : commodities which are not 
to be procured by the Prussian soldier, and which were stowed 
away in secret till wanted. They were to be wanted, and that 
soon. 

Le Blondin had organized a great and extraordinary con- 
spiracy. We don’t know how far it went, how many hundreds 
or thousands it embraced ; but strange were the stories ' told 
about the plot amongst us privates : for the news was spread 
from garrison to garrison, and talked of by the army, in spite 
of all the Government efforts to hush it up — hush it up, indeed ! 
I have been of the people myself ; I have seen the Irish rebel- 
lion, and I know what is the freemasonry of the poor. 

He made himself the head of the plot. There were no 
writings nor papers. No single one of the conspirators com- 
municated with any other but the Frenchman ; but personally 
he gave his orders to them all. He had arranged matters for 
a general rising of the garrison, at twelve o’clock on a certain 
day : the guard-houses in the town were to be seized, the sen- 
tinels cut down, and — who knows the rest ? Some of our peo- 
ple uSed to say that the conspiracy was spread through all Si- 
lesia, and that Le Blondin was to be made a general in the 
Austrian service. 

At twelve o’clock, and opposite the guard-house by the 
Bohmer-Thor of Neiss, some thirty men were lounging about in 
their undress, and the Frenchman stood near the sentinel of 
the guard-house, sharpening a wood-hatchet on a stone. At 
the stroke of twelve, he got up, split open the sentinel’s head 
with a blow of his axe, and the thirty men, rushing into the 
guard-house, took possession of the arms there, and marched 
at once to the gate. The sentry there tried to drop the bar, 
but the Frenchman rushed up to him, and, with another blow 


9 ° 


JTJIE MEMOIRS OF 


of the axe, cut olf his right hand with which he held the chain. 
Seeing the men rushing out armed, the guard without the gate 
drew up across the road to prevent their passage ; but the 
Frenchman’s thirty gave them a volley, charged them with the 
bayonet, and brought down several, and the rest flying, the 
thirty rushed on. The frontier is only a league from Neiss, 
and they made rapidly towards it. 

But the alarm was given in the town, and what saved it was 
that the clock by which the Frenchman went was a quarter of 
an hour faster than any of the clocks in the town. The 
ge'nerale was beat, the troops called to arms, and thus the men 
who were to have attacked the other guard-houses were obliged 
to fall into the ranks, and their project was defeated. This, 
however, likewise rendered the discovery of the conspirators 
impossible, for no man could betray his comrade, nor, of course, 
would he criminate himself. 

Cavalry was sent in pursuit of the Frenchman and his thirty 
fugitives, who were, by this time, far on their way to the Bohe- 
mian frontier. When the horse came up with them, they turned, 
received them with a volley and the bayonet, and drove them 
back. The Austrians were out at the barriers, looking eagerly 
on at the conflict. The women, who were on the look-out too, 
brought more ammunition to these intrepid deserters, and they 
engaged and drove back the dragoons several times. But in 
these gallant and fruitless combats much time was lost, and a 
battalion presently came up, and surrounded the brave thirty ; 
when the fate of the poor fellows was decided. They fought 
with the fury of despair : not one of them asked for quarter. 
When their ammunition failed, they fought with the steel, and 
were shot down or bayoneted where they stood. The French- 
man was the very last man who was hit. Fie received a bullet 
in the thigh, and fell, and in this state was overpowered, killing 
the officer who first advanced to seize him. » 

Fie and the very few of his comrades who survived were 
carried back to Neiss, and immediately, as the ringleader, he 
was brought before a council of war. Fie refused all interro- 
gations which were made as to his real name and family. “ What 
matters who I am?” said he; “you have me and will shoot 
me. My name would not save me were it ever so famous.” 
In the same way he declined to make a single discovery re- 
garding the plot. “ It w r as all my doing,” he said ; “ each man 
engaged in it only knew me, and is ignorant of every one of his 
comrades. The secret is mine alone, and the secret shall die 
with me.” When the officers asked him what was the reason 


BARR V L VjVDON ; ESQ. 


9 1 


which induced him to meditate a crime so horrible ? “ It was 

your infernal brutality and tyranny/’ he said. “You are all 
butchers, ruffians, tigers, and you owe it to the cowardice of 
your men that you were not murdered long ago.” 

At this his captain burst into the most furious exclamations 
against the wounded man, and rushing up to him, struck him a 
blow with his fist. But Le Blondin, wounded as he was, as 
quick as thought seized the bayonet of one of the soldiers 
who supported him, and plunged it into the officer’s breast. 
“ Scoundrel and monster,” said he, “ I shall have the conso- 
lation of sending you out of the world before I die.” He was 
shot that day. He offered to write to the king, if the officers 
would agree to let his letter go sealed into the hands of the 
j^pstmaster ; but they feared, no doubt, that something might 
be said to inculpate themselves, and refused him the permis- 
sion. At the next review Frederick treated them, it is said, 
with great severity, and rebuked them for not having granted 
the Frenchman his request. However, it was the king’s in- 
terest to conceal the matter, and so it was, as I have said be- 
fore, hushed up — so well hushed up, that a hundred thousand 
soldiers in the army knew it : and many’s the one of us that 
has drunk to the Frenchman’s memory over our wine, as a 
martyr for the cause of the soldier. I shall have, doubtless, 
some readers who will cry out at this, that I am encouraging 
insubordination and advocating murder.. If these men had 
served as privates in the Prussian army from 1760 to 1765, 
they would not be so apt to take objection. This man destroyed 
two sentinels to get his liberty ; how many hundreds of thou- 
sands of his own and the Austrian people did King Frederick 
kill because he took a fancy to Silesia ? It was the accursed 
tyranny of the system that sharpened the axe which brained the 
two sentinels of Neiss : and so let officers take warning, and 
think twice ere they visit poor fellows with the cane. 

I could tell many more stories about the army ; but as, from 
having been a soldier myself, all my sympathies are in the 
ranks, no doubt my tales would be pronounced to be of an im- 
moral tendency, and I had TTest, therefore, be brief. Fancy my 
surprise while in this depot, when one day a well-known voice 
saluted my ear, and I heard a meagre young gentleman, who 
was brought in by a couple of troopers and received a few cuts 
across the shoulders from one of them, say in the best English, 
“You infernal wasccil, I’ll be wevenged for this. I’ll wife, to 
my ambassador, as sure as my name’s Fakenham of Fakem 
ham.” I burst out laughing at this : it was my old acquaint- 


9 2 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


ance in my corporal’s coat. Lischen had sworn stoutly that he 
was really and truly the private, and the poor fellow had been 
drafted off, and was to be made one of us. But I bear no 
malice, and having made the whole room roar with my story of 
the way in which I had tricked the poor lad, I gave him a piece 
of advice, which procured him his liberty. “ Go to the inspect- 
ing officer,” said I ; “ if they once get you into Prussia it is all 
over with you, and they will never give you up. Go now to the 
commandant of the depot, promise him a hundred — five hun- 
dred guineas to set you free ; say that the crimping captain has 
your papers and portfolio (this was true) ; above all, show 
him that you have the means of paying him the promised 
money, and I will warrant you are set free.” He did as I 
advised, and when we were put on the march Mr. Fakenhc^n 
found means to be allowed to go into hospital, and while in 
hospital the matter was arranged as I had recommended. He 
had nearly, however, missed his freedom by his own stinginess 
in bargaining for it, and never showed the least gratitude to- 
wards me his benefactor. 

I am not going to give any romantic narrative of the Seven 
Years’ War. At the close of it, the Prussian army, so renowned 
for its disciplined valor, was officered and under-officered by 
native Prussians, it is true ; but was composed for the most 
part of men hired or stolen, like myself, from almost every 
nation in Europe. The deserting to and fro was prodigious. 
In my regiment (Biilow’s) alone before the war, there had been 
no less than 600 Frenchmen, and as they marched out of Ber- 
lin for the campaign, one of the fellows had an old fiddle on 
which he was playing a French tune, and his comrades danced 
almost, rather than walked, after him, singing, “ Nous aliens cn 
France” Two years after, when they returned to Berlin, there 
were only six of these men left ; the rest had fled or were 
killed in action. The life the private soldier led was a fright- 
ful one to any but men of iron courage and endurance. 
There was a corporal to every three men, marching be- 
hind them, and pitilessly using the cane : so much so that it 
used to be said that in action thert* was a front rank of privates 
and a second rank of sergeants and corporals to drive them on. 
Many men would give way to the most frightful acts of despair 
under these incessant persecutions and tortures ; and amongst 
several regiments of the army a horrible practice had sprung 
up, which for some time caused the greatest alarm to the gov- 
ernment. This was a strange, frightful custom of child-murder . 
The men used to say that life was unbearable, that suicide was 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


93 


a crime ; in order to avert which, and to finish with the intoler- 
able misery of their position, the best plan was to kill a young 
child, which was innocent, and therefore secure of heaven, and 
then to deliver themselves up as guilty of the murder. The 
king himself — the hero, sage, and philosopher, the prince who 
had always liberality on his lips, and who affected a horror of 
capital punishments — was frightened at this dreadful protest, 
on the part of the wretches whom he had kidnapped, against 
his monstrous tyranny ; but his only means of remedying the 
evil was strictly to forbid that such criminals should be at- 
tended by any ecclesiastic. whatever, an.d denied all religious 
consolation. 

The punishment was incessant. Every officer had the lib- 
erty to inflict it, and in peace it was more cruel than in war. 
For when peace came the king turned adrift such of his officers 
as were not noble ; whatever their services might have been. 
He would call a captain to the front of his company and say, 
“ He is not noble, let him go.” We were afraid of him some- 
how, and were cowed before him like wild beasts before their 
keeper. I have seen the bravest men of the army cry like 
children at a. cut of the cane ; I have seen a little ensign of fif- 
teen call out a man of fifty from the ranks, a man who had been 
in a hundred battles, and he has stood presenting arms, and 
sobbing and howling like a baby, while the young wretch lashed 
him over the arms and thighs with the stick. In a day of 
action this man would dare anything. A button might be awry 
then and nobody touched him ; but when they had made the 
brute fight, then they lashed him again into subordination. 
Almost all of us yielded to the spell — scarce one could break 
it. The French officer I have spoken of as taken along with 
me, was in my company, and caned like a dog. I met him at 
Versailles twenty years afterwards, and he turned quite pale 
and sick when I spoke to him of old days. “ For God’s sake,” 
said he, “ don’t talk of that time : I wake up from my sleep 
trembling and crying even now.” 

As for me, after a very brief time (in which it must be con- 
fessed I tasted, like my comrades, of the cane) and after I had 
found opportunities to show myself to be a brave and dexterous 
soldier, I took the means I had adoptee] in the English army to 
prevent any further personal degradation. I wore a bullet 
around my neck, which I did not take the pains to conceal, and 
I gave out that it should be for the man or officer who caused 
me to be chastised. And there was something in my character 
which made my superiors believe me ; for that bullet had al- 


94 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


ready served me to kill an Austrian colonel, and I would have 
given it to a Prussian with as little remorse. For what cared I 
for their quarrels, or whether the eagle under which I marched 
had one head or two ? All I said was, a No man shall find me 
tripping in my duty ; but no man shall ever lay a hand upon 
me.” And by this maxim I abided as long as I remained in the 
service. 

I do not intend to make a history of battles in the Prussian 
any more than in the English service. I did my duty in them 
as well as another, and by the time that my mustache had 
grown to a decent length, which it did when I was twenty years 
of age, there was not a braver, cleverer, handsomer, and I must 
own, wickeder soldier in the Prussian army. I had formed my- 
self to the condition of the proper fighting beast : on a day of 
action I was savage and happy ; out of the field I took all the 
pleasure I could get, and was by no means delicate as to its 
quality or the manner of procuring it. The truth is, however, 
that there was among our men a much higher tone of society 
than among the clumsy louts in the English army, and our 
service was generally so strict that we had little time for doing 
mischief. I am very dark and swarthy in complexion, and was 
called by our fellows the “ Black Englander,” the “ Schwartzer 
Englander, ” or the English Devil. If any service was to be 
done, I was sure to be put upon it. I got frequent gratifications 
of money, but no promotion ; and it was on the day after I had 
killed the Austrian colonel (a great officer of Uhlans, whom I 
engaged singly and on foot) that General Biilow, my colonel, 
gave me two Frederics-d’or in front of the regiment, and said, 
“ I reward thee now ; but I fear I shall have to hang thee one 
day or other/’ I spent the money, and that I had taken from 
the colonel’s body, every groschen, that night with some jovial 
companions ; but as long as war lasted was never without a 
dollar in my purse. 


CHAPTER VII. 


BARRY LEADS A HARRISON LIFE, AND FINDS MANY FRIENDS THERE. 


After the war, our regiment was garrisoned in the capital, 
the least dull, perhaps, of all the towns of Prussia: but that 
does not say much for its gayety. Our service, which was 


BARRY 'LYNDON, ESQ, 


95 


always severe, still left many hours of the day disengaged, in 
which we might take our pleasure had we the means of paying 
for the same. Many of our mess got leave to work in trades ; 
but I had been brought up to none : and besides my honor 
forbade me ; for as a gentleman, I could not soil my fingers by 
a manual occupation. But our pay was barely enough to keep _ 
us from starving ; and as I have always been fond of pleasure, 
and as the position in which we now were, in the midst of the 
capital, prevented us from resorting to those means of levying 
contributions which are always pretty feasible in war-time, I 
was obliged to adopt the only means left me of providing for my 
expenses : and in a word, became the Ordonnanz , or confiden- 
tial military gentleman of my captain. I spurned the office four 
years previously, when it was made to me in the English ser- 
vice ; but the position is very different in a foreign country : 
besides, to tell the truth, after five years in the ranks, a man’s 
pride will submit to many rebuffs which would be intolerable to 
him in an independent condition. 

The captain was a young man and had distinguished himself 
during the war, or he would never have been advanced to rank 
so early. He was, moreover, the nephew and heir of the Minis- 
ter of Police, Monsieur de Potzdorff, a relationship which no 
doubt aided in the young gentleman’s promotion. Captain de 
Potzdorff was a severe officer enough on parade or in barracks, 
but he was a person easily led by flattery. I won his heart in 
the first place by my manner of tying my hair in queue (indeed 
it was more neatly dressed than that of any man in the regiment) 
and subsequently gained his confidence by a thousand little arts 
and compliments, which as a gentleman myself I knew how to 
employ. He was a man of pleasure, which he pursued more 
openly than, most men in the stern court of the king; he was 
generous alid careless with his purse, and he had a great affec- 
tion for Rhine wine : in all which qualities I sincerely sympa- 
thized with him ; and from which I, of course, had my profit. 
Pie was disliked in the regiment, because he was supposed to 
have too intimate relations with his uncle the Police Minister ; 
to whom, it was hinted, he carried the news of the corps. 

Before long I had ingratiated myself considerably with my 
officer, and knew most of his affairs. Thus I was relieved from 
many drills and parades, which would otherwise have fallen to 
my lot, and came in for a number of perquisites ; which enabled 
me to support a genteel figure and to appear with some eclat 
in a certain, though it must be confessed very humble society 
in Berlin. Among the ladies I was always an especial favorite, 


THE MEMOIRS OE 


96 

and so polished was my behavior amongst them, that they 
could not understand how I should have obtained my frightful 
nickname of the Black Devil in the regiment. “ He is not so 
black as he is painted,” I laughingly would say ; arid most of 
the ladies agreed that the private was quite as well bred as the 
captain : as indeed how should it be otherwise, considering my 
education and birth ? 

When I was sufficiently ingratiated with him, I asked leave 
to address a letter to my poor mother in Ireland, to whom I had 
not given any news of myself for many years ; for the letters of 
the foreign soldiers were never admitted to the post, for fear of 
appeals or disturbances on the part of their parents abroad. 
My captain agreed to find means to forward the letter, and as 
I knew that he would open it, I took care to give it him sealed; 
thus showing my confidence in him. But the letter was, as you 
may imagine, written so that the writer should come to no harm 
were it intercepted. I begged my honored mother’s forgiveness 
for having fled from her ; I said that my extravagance and folly 
in my own country I knew rendered my return thither impos- 
sible ; but that she would, at least, be glad to know that I was 
well and happy in the service of the greatest monarch in the 
world, and that the soldier’s life was most agreeable to me : 
and, I added, that I had found a kind protector and patron, who 
I hoped would some day provide for me as I knew it was out of 
her power to do. I offered remembrances to all the girls at 
Castle Brady, naming them from Biddy to Becky downwards, 
and signed myself, as in truth I was, her affectionate son, 
Redmond Barry, in Captain Potzdorff’s company of the Biilo- 
wisch regiment of foot in garrison at Berlin. Also I told her a 
pleasant story about the king kicking the chancellor and three 
judges down stairs, as he had done one day when I was on 
guard at Potsdam, and said I hoped for another war soon, 
when I might rise to be an officer! In fact, you might have 
imagined my letter to be that of the happiest fellow in the world, 
and I was not on this head at all sorry to mislead my kind 
parent. 

I was sure my letter was read, for Captain Potzdorff began 
asking me some days afterwards about my family, and I told 
him the circumstances pretty truly, all things considered. I 
was a cadet of a good family, but mv mother was almost ruined 
and had barely enough to support her eight daughters, whom 
I named. I had been to study for the law at Dublin, where I 
had got into debt and bad company, had killed a man in a duel, 
and would be hanged or imprisoned by his powerful friends if 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


97 


I returned. I had enlisted in the English service, where an 
opportunity for escape presented itself to me such as I could 
not resist ; and hereupon I told the story of Mr. Fakenham of 
Fakenham in such a way as made my patron to be convulsed 
with laughter, and he told me afterwards that he had repeated 
the story at Madame de Rameke’s evening assembly, where all 
the world was anxious to have a sight of the young Englander. 

“ Was the British ambassador there ? ” I asked, in a tone 
of the greatest alarm, and added “ For heaven’s sake, sir, do 
not tell my name to him, or he might ask to have me delivered 
up : and I have no fancy to go to be hanged in my dear native 
country.” Potzdorff, laughing, said he would take care that I 
should remain where I was, on which J swore eternal gratitude 
to him. 

Some days afterwards, and with rather a grave face, he said 
to me, “ Redmond, I have been talking to our colonel about 
you, and as I wondered that a fellow of your courage and 
talents had not been advanced during the war, the general said 
they had had their eye upon you ; that you were a gallant 
soldier, and had evidently come of a good stock ; that no man 
in the regiment had had less fault found with him ; but that no 
man merited promotion less. You were idle, dissolute, and un- 
principled ; you had done a deal of harm to the men ; and, for 
all your talents and braver}', he was sure would come to no 
good.” 

“ Sir ! ” said I, quite astonished that any mortal man should 
have formed such an opinion of me, “ 1 hope General Biilow 
is mistaken regarding my character. I have fallen into bad 
company, it is true ; but I have only done as other soldiers 
have done ; and, above all, I have never had a kind friend and 
protector before, to whom I might show that I was worthy of 
better things. The general may say I am a ruined lad, and 
send me to the d — 1 ; but be sure of this, I would go to the 
d — 1 to serve you.” This speech I saw pleased my patron very 
much ; and, as I was very discreet and useful in a thousand 
delicate ways to him, he soon came to have a sincere attach- 
ment for me. One day, or rather night, when he was tete-a-tcte 
with the lady of the Tabaks Rath Yon Dose for instance, I 
* * * * but there is no use in telling affairs which concern 
nobody now. 

Four months after my letter to my mother, I got, under 
cover to the captain, a reply, which created in my mind a 
yearning after home, and a melancholy which 1 cannot* de- 
scribe. I had not seen the dear soul’s writing for five years. 


98 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


All the old days, and the fresh happy sunshine of the old green 
fields in Ireland, and her love, and my uncle, and Phil Purcell, 
and everything that I had done and thought, came back to me 
as I read the letter ; and when I was alone I cried over it, as 
I hadn’t done since the day when Nora jilted me. I took care 
not to show my feelings to the regiment or my captain : but 
that night, when I was to have taken tea at the Garden-house 
outside Brandenburg Gate, with Fraulein Lottchen (the 
Tabaks Rathinn’s gentlewoman of company), I somehow had 
not the courage to go ; but begged to be excused, and went 
early to bed in barracks, out of which I went and came now 
almost as I willed, and passed a long night weeping and think- 
ing about dear Ireland. 

Next day, my spirits rose again, and I got a ten-guinea bill 
cashed, which my mother sent in the letter, and gave a hand- 
some treat to some of my acquaintance. The poor soul’s letter 
was blotted all over with tears, full of texts, and written in the 
wildest incoherent way. She said she was delighted to think 
I was under a Protestant prince, though she feared he was not 
in the right way : that right way, she said, she had the bless- 
ing to find, under the guidance of the Rev. Joshua Jowls, whom 
she sat under. She said he was a precious, chosen vessel ; a 
sweet ointment and precious box of spikenard ; and made use i 
of a great number more phrases that I could not understand ; 
but one thing was clear in the midst of all this jargon, that the 
good soul loved her son still, and thought and prayed day and 
night for her wild Redmond. Has it not come across many a 
poor fellow, in a solitary night’s watch, or in sorrow, sickness, I 
or captivity, that at that very minute, most likely, his mother is ] 
praying for him ? I often have had these thoughts ; but they ; 
are none of the gayest, and it’s quite as well that they don’t 
come to you in company ; for where would be a set of jolly 
fellows then ? — as mute as undertakers at a funeral, I promise 
you. I drank my mothers health that night in a bumper, and 
lived like a gentleman whilst the money lasted. She pinched 
herself to give it me, as she told me afterwards, and Mr. Jowls 
was very wroth with her. 

Although the good soul’s money was pretty quickly spent, 

I was not long in getting more ; for I had a hundred ways of 
getting.it, and became a universal favorite with the captain and 
his friends. Now, it was Madtime von Dose who gave me a 
Frederic-d’or for bringing her a bouquet or a letter from the 
captain ; now it was, on the contrary, the old Privy Councillor 
who treated me with a bottle of Rhenish, and slipped into my 


BARRY L YXDON, \ ESQ. 


99 


hand a dollar or two, in order that I might give him some in- 
formation regarding the liaison between my captain and his 
lady. But though I was not such a fool as not to take his 
money, you may be sure I was not dishonorable enough to 
betray my benefactor ; and he got very little out of me. When 
the captain and the lady fell out, and he began to pay his 
addresses to the rich daughter of the Dutch Minister, I don’t 
know how many more letters and guineas the unfortunate 
Tabaks Rathinn handed over to me, that I might get her lover 
back again. But such returns are rare in love, and the captain 
used only to laugh at her stale sighs and entreaties. In the 
house of Mynheer V an Guldensack I made myself so pleasant 
to high and low, that I came to be quite intimate there ; and 
got the knowledge of a state secret or two, which surprised and 
pleased my captain very much. These little hints he carried 
to his uncle, the Minister of Police, who, no doubt, made .his 
advantage of them ; and thus I began to be received quite in a 
confidential light by the Potzdorff family, and became a mere 
nominal soldier, being allowed to appear in plain clothes (which 
were, I warrant you, of a neat fashion) and to enjoy myself in 
a hundred ways, which the poor fellows my comrades envied. 
As for the sergeants, they were as civil to me as to an officer : 
it was as much as their stripes were worth to offend a person 
who had the ear of the Minister’s nephew. There was in my 
company a young fellow by the name of Kurz, who was six feet 
high in spite of his name, and whose life I had saved in some 
affair of the war. What does this lad do, after I had recounted 
to him one of my adventures, but call me a spy and informer, 
and beg me not to call him du any more, as is the fashion with 
young men when they are very intimate. I had nothing for it 
but to call him out ; but I owed him no grudge. I disarmed 
him in a twinkling ; and as I sent his sword flying over his 
head, said to him, “ Kurz, did ever you know a man guilty of a 
mean action who can do as I do now ? ” This silenced the 
rest of the grumblers ; and no man ever sneered at me after that. 

No man can suppose that to a person of my fashion the 
waiting in antechambers, the conversation of footmen and 
hangers-on, was pleasant. But it was not more degrading than 
the barrack-room, of which I need not say I was heartily sick. 
My protestations of liking for -the army were all intended to 
throw dust into the eyes of my employer. I sighed to be out 
of slavery. I knew I was born to make a figure in the world. 
Had I been one of the Neiss garrison, I would have cut my 
way to freedon by the side of the gallant Frenchman ; but here 


lOO 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


I had only artifice to enable me to attain my end, and was nor 
I justified in employing it ? My plan was this : I may make 
myself so necessary to Mr. de Potzdorff, that he will obtain my 
freedom. Once free, with my fine person and good family, I 
will do what ten thousand Irish gentlemen have done before, 
and will marry a lady of fortune and condition. And the proof 
that I was, if not disinterested, at least actuated by a noble 
ambition, is this. There was a fat grocer’s widow in Berlin 
with six hundred thalers of rent, and a good business, who 
gave me to understand that she would purchase my discharge 
if I would marry her ; but 1 frankly told her that I was not 
made to be a grocer, and thus absolutely dung away a chance 
of freedom which she offered me. 

And I was grateful to my employers ; more grateful than 
they to me. The captain was in debt, and had dealings with 
the Jews, to whom he gave notes of hand payable on his uncle’s 
death. The old Herr von Potzdorff, seeing the confidence his 
nephew had in me, offered to bribe me to know what the young 
man’s affairs really were. But what did I do ? I informed 
Monsieur George von Potzdorff of the fact ; and we made out, 
in concert, a list of little debts, so moderate, that they actually 
appeased the old uncle instead of irritating, and he paid them, 
being glad to get off so cheap. 

And a pretty return I got for this fidelity. One morning, 
the old gentleman being closeted with his nephew (he used to 
come to get any news stirring as to what the young officers of 
the regiments were doing ; whether this or that gambled ; who 
intrigued, and with whom ; who was at the ridotto on such a 
night ; who was in debt, and what not ; for the king liked to 
know the business of every officer in his army), I was sent with 
a letter to the Marquis d’Argens (that afterwards married 
Mademoiselle Cochois the actress), and, meeting the marquis 
at a few paces off in the street, gave my message, and returned 
to the captain’s lodging. He and his worthy uncle were 
making my unworthy self the subject of conversation. 

“ He is noble,” said the captain. 

“ Bah ! ” replied the uncle (whom I could have throttled 
for his insolence). “All the beggarly Irish who ever enlisted 
tell the same story.” 

“ He was kidnapped by Galgenstein,” resumed the other. 

“'A kidnapped deserter,” said M. Potzdorff; “la bellt 
affaire ! ” 

“ Well, I promised the lad I would ask for his discharge ; 
and I am sure you can make him useful.” 


BA RR V L YNDOA\ ESQ. I o i 

“ You have asked his discharge,” answered the elder, laugh- 
ing. “ Bon Dieu ! You are a model of probity ! You’ll never 
succeed to my place, George, if you are no wiser than you are 
just now. Make the fellow as useful to you as you please. 
He has a good manner and a frank countenance. He can lie 
with an assurance that I never saw surpassed, and fight, you 
say, on a pinch. The scoundrel does not want for good 
qualities ; but he is vain, a spendthrift, and a bavard. As 
long as you have the regiment in terrorem over him, you can 
do as you like with him. Once let him loose, and the lad 
is likely to give you the slip. Keep on promising him ; 
promise to make him a general, if you like. What the 
deuce do I care ? There are spies enough to be had in this 
town without him.” 

It was thus that the services I rendered to M. Potzdcrff 
were qualified by that ungrateful old gentleman ; and I stole 
away from the room extremely troubled in spirit, to think that 
another of my fond dreams was thus dispelled ; and that my 
hopes of getting out of the army, by being useful to the captain, 
were entirely vain. For some time my despair was such, that 
I thought of marrying the widow ; but the marriages of privates 
are never allowed without. the direct permission of the King ; 
and it was a matter of very great doubt whether his Majesty 
would allow a young fellow of twenty-two, the handsomest 
man of his army, to be coupled to a pimple-faced old widow of 
sixty, who was quite beyond the age when her marriage would 
be likely to multiply the subjects of his Majesty. This hope 
of liberty was therefore \*ain ; nor could I hope to purchase my 
discharge, unless any charitable soul would lend me a large 
sum of money : for though I made a good deal, as I have 
said, yet I have always had through life an incorrigible knack 
of spending, and (such is my generosity of disposition) have 
been in debt ever since I was born. 

My captain, the sly rascal ! gave me a very different ver- 
sion of his conversation with his uncle to that which I knew to 
be the true one ; and said smilingly to me, “ Redmond, I 
have spoken to the Minister regarding thy services,* and thy 


* The service about which Mr. Barry here speaks has, and we suspect purposely, been 
described by him in very dubious terms. It is most probable that he was employed to wait 
at the table of strangers in Berlin, and to bring to the Police Minister any news concerning 
them which might at all interest the Government. The great Frederic never received a 
guest without taking these hospitable precautions ; and as for the duels which Mr. Barry 
fights, may we be allowed to hint a doubt as to a great number of these combats? It will be 
observed, in one or two others parts of his Memoirs, that whenever he is at an awkward pass, 
or does what the world does not usually consider respectable, a duel, in which he is victori- 
ous, is sure to ensue ; from which he argues that he is a man of undoubted honor. 


102 


THE MEMOIRS OE 


fortune is made. We shall get thee out of* the army, appoint 
thee to the police bureau, and procure for thee an inspector- 
ship of customs ; and, in fine, allow thee to move in a better 
sphere than that in which Fortune has hitherto placed thee.” 

Although I did not believe a word of this speech, I affected 
to be very much moved by it, and of course swore eternal 
gratitude to the captain for his kindness to the poor Irish 
castaway. 

“ Your service at the Dutch Minister’s has pleased me very 
well. There is another occasion on which you may make your- 
self useful to us ; and if you succeed, depend on it your re- 
ward will be secure.” 

“What is the service, sir?” said I ; “I will do anything 
for so kind a master.” 

“ There is lately come to Berlin,” said the captain, “ a 
gentleman in the service of the Empress-queen, who calls him- 
self the Chevalier de Balibari, and wears the red ribbon and 
star of the Pope’s order of the Spur. He speaks Italian or 
French indifferently ; but we have some reason to fancy this 
Monsieur de Balibari is a native of your country of Ireland. 
Did you ever hear such a name as Balibari in Ireland ? ” 

“ Balibari ! Balyb * # ? ” A sudden thought flashed across 
me. “ No, sir,” said I, “ never heard the name.” 

“You must go into his service. Of course you will not know 
a word of English ; and if the chevalier asks to the particularity 
of your accent, say you are a Hungarian. The servant who 
came with him will be turned away to-day, and the person to 
whom he has applied for a faithful fellbw will recommend you. 
You are a Hungarian ; you served in the Seven Years’ War. 
You left the army on account of weakness of the loins. You 
served Monsieur De Quellenberg two years ; he is now with the 
army in Silesia, but there is your certificate signed by him. You 
afterwards lived with Dr. Mopsius, who will give you a charac- 
ter, if need be ; and the landlord of the 1 Star 5 will, of course, 
certify that you are an honest fellow ; but his certificate goes 
for nothing. As for the rest of your story, you can fashion that 
as you will, and make it as romantic or as ludicrous as your 
fancy dictates. Try, however, to win the chevalier’s confidence 
by provoking his compassion. He gambles a great deal, and 
wins. Do you know the cards well ? ” 

“ Only a very little, as soldiers do.” 

“ I had thought you more expert. You must find out if the 
chevalier cheats ; if he does, we have him. He sees the Eng- 
lish and Austrian envoys continually, and the young men of 


BARR Y L YNDOiVy ESQ . 


io 3 

either Ministry sup repeatedly at his house. Find out what 
they talk of ; for how much each plays, especially if any of them 
play on parole : if you once read his private letters, of course 
you will ; though about those which go to the post, you need not 
trouble yourself ; we look at them there. But never see him 
write a note without finding out to whom it goes, and by what 
channel or messenger. He sleeps with the keys of his despatch 
box on a string round his neck. Twenty Frederics, if you get 
an impression of the keys. You will, of course, go in plain 
clothes. You had best brush the powder out of your hair, and 
tie it with a ribbon simply ; your mustache you must of course 
shave off.” 

With these instructions, and a very small gratuity, the cap- 
tain left me. When I again saw him, he was amused at the 
change in my appearance. I had, not without a pang (for they 
were as black as jet, and curled elegantly), shaved off my mus- 
taches ; had removed the odious grease and flour, which I always 
abominated, out of my hair ; had mounted a demure French 
gray coat, black satin breeches, and a maroon plush waistcoat, 
and a hat without a cockade. I looked as meek and humble 
as any servant out of place could possibly appear ; and -I think 
not my own regiment, which was now at the review at Potsdam, 
would have known me. Thus accoutred, I went to the “ Star 
Hotel,” where this stranger was, — my heart beating with anxiety, 
and something telling me that this Chevalier de Balibari was 
no other than Barry, of Ballybarry, my father’s eldest brother, 
who had given up his estate in consequence of his obstinate 
adherence to the Romish superstition. Before I went in to 
present myself, I went to look" in the remises at his carriage. 
Flad he the Barry arms ? Yes, there they were : argent, a bend 
gules, with four escallops of the field, — the ancient coat of my 
house. They were painted in a shield about as big as my hat, 
on a smart chariot handsomely gilded, surmounted with a coro- 
net, and supported by eight or nine cupids, cornucopias, and 
flower baskets, according to the queer heraldic fashion of 
those days. It must be he ! 1 felt quite faint as I went up the 

stairs. I was going to present myself before my uncle in the 
character of a servant ! 

“ You are the young man whom M. de Seebach recom- 
mended ? ” 

I bowed and handed him a letter from that gentleman, with 
which my captain had taken care to provide me. As he looked 
at it I had leisure to examine him. My uncle was a man of 
sixty years of age, dressed superbly in a coat and breeches of 


104 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


apricot-colorecl velvet, a white satin waistcoat embroidered with 
gold like the coat. Across his breast went the purple ribbon of 
his order of the Spur ; and the star of the order, an enormous 
one, sparkled on his breast. He had rings on his fingers, a 
couple of watches in his fobs, a rich diamond solitaire in the 
black ribbon round his neck, and fastened to the bag of his 
wig ; his ruffles and frills were decorated with a profusion of 
the richest lace. He had pink silk stockings rolled over the 
knee, and tied with gold garters ; and enormous diamond buck- 
les to his red-heeled shoes. A sword mounted in gold, in a 
white fish-skin scabbard; and a hat richly laced, and lined 
with white feathers, which were lying on a table beside him, 
completed the costume of this splendid gentleman. In height 
he was about my size, that is, six feet and half an inch ; his cast 
of features singularly like mine, and extremely distingue. One 
of his eyes was closed with a black patch, however ; he wore a 
little white and red paint, by no means an unusual ornament in 
those days ; and a pair of mustaches, which fell over his lip 
and hid a mouth that I afterwards found had rather a disagree- 
able expression. When his beard was removed, the upper teeth 
appeared to project very much ; and his countenance wore a 
ghastly fixed smile, by no means pleasant. 

It was very imprudent of me ; but when I saw the splendor 
of his appearance, the nobleness of his manner, I felt it im- 
possible to keep disguise with him ; and when he said, “ Ah, 
you are a Hungarian I see ! ” I could hold no longer. 

“ Sir, ” said I, “ I am an Irishman, and my name is Red- 
mond Barry, of Ballybarry.” As I spoke, I burst into tears ; I 
can’t tell why ; but I had seen none of my kith or kin for six 
years, and my heart longed for some one. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

BARRY BIDS ADIEU TO THE MILITARY PROFESSION. * 

You who have never been out of your country, know little 
what it is to hear a friendly voice in captivity; and there’s 
many a man that wilTnot understand the cause of the burst of 
feeling which I have confessed took place on my seeing my unde. 
He never for a minute thought to question the truth of what I 


HARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


io 5 

said. “ Mother of God ! ” cried he, “ it’s my brother Harry’s son.” 
And I think in my heart he was as much affected as 1 was at 
thus suddenly finding one of his kindred ; for he, too, was an 
exile from home, and a friendly voice, a look, brought the old 
country back to his memory again, and the old days of his boy- 
hood. “I’d give five years of my life to see them again,” said 
he, after caressing me very warmly. “ What ? ” asked I. 
“Why,” replied he, “the green fields, and the river, and the 
old round tower, and the burying-place at Ballybarry. ’Twas a 
shame for your father to part with the land, Redmond, that 
went so long with the name.” 

He then began to ask me concerning myself, and I gave 
him my history at some length ; at which the worthy gentleman 
laughed' many times, saying that I was a Barry all over. In the 
middle of my story he would stop me, to make me stand back 
to back, and measure with him (by which 1% ascertained that 
our heights were the same, and that my uncle had a stiff knee, 
moreover, which made him walk in a peculiar way), and uttered, 
during the course of the narrative, a hundred exclamations of 
pity, and kindness, and sympathy. It was “ Holy saints ! ” and 
“ Mother of Heaven ! ” and “Blessed Mary ! ” continually ; by 
which, and with justice, I concluded that he was still devotedly 
• attached to the ancient faith of our family. 

It was with some difficulty that I came to explain to him 
the last part of my history, viz. that I was put into his service 
as a watch upon his actions, of which I was to give information 
in a certain quarter. When I told him (with a great deal of 
hesitation) of this fact, he burst out laughing, and enjoyed the 
joke amazingly. “ The rascals ! ” said he ; “ they think to 
catch me, do they ? Why, Redmond, my chief conspiracy is a 
faro-bank. But the king is so jealous, that he will see a spy 
in every person that comes to his miserable capital in the great 
sandy desert here. Ah, my boy, I must show you Paris and 
Vienna ! ” * 

I said there was nothing I longed for more than to see any 
city but Berlin, and should be delighted to be free of the odicus 
military service. Indeed, I thought from his splendor of ap- 
pearance, the knick-knacks about the room, the gilded carriage, 
in the 7 ‘e 7 nise, that my uncle was a man of vast property; and 
that he would purchase a dozen, nay, a whole regiment of sub- 
stitutes, in order to restore me to freedom. 

But I was mistaken in my calculations regarding him, as his 
history of himself speedily showed me. “I have been beaten 
about the world,” said he, ‘‘ever since the year 1742, when my 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


1 06 

brother your father (and heaven forgive him) cut my family es- 
state from under my heels, by turning heretic, in order to marry 
that scold of a mother of yours. Well, let by-gones be by- 
gones. ’Tis probable that I should have run through the little 
property as he did in my place, and I should have had to begin 
a year or two later the life I have been leading ever since I 
was compelled to leave Ireland. My lad, I have been in every 
service ; and between ourselves, owe money in every capital in 
Europe. I made a campaign or two with the Pandours under 
Austrian Trenck. I was captain in the Guard of his Holiness 
the Pope. I made a campaign of Scotland with the Prince of 
Wales — a bad fellow, my dear, caring more for his mistress and 
his brandy-bottle than for the crowns of the three kingdoms. 
I have served in Spain and in Piedmont ; but I have been 
a rolling stone, my good fellow. Play — play has been my ruin ! 
that and beauty ” (here he gave .a leer which made him, I must 
confess, look anything but handsome ; besides his rouged 
cheeks were all beslobbered with the tears which he had shed on 
receiving me). “ The women have made a fool of me, my dear 
Redmond. I am a soft-hearted creature, and this minute, at 
sixty-two, have no more command of myself than when Peggy 
O’Dwyer made a fool of me at sixteen.” 

“ ’Faith, sir,” said I, laughing, “ I think it runs in the 
family ! ” and described to him, much to his amusement, my 
romantic passion for my cousin, Nora Brady. He resumed his 
narrative. 

“ The cards now a^ my only livelihood. Sometimes I am 
in luck, and then I lay out my money in these trinkets you see. 
It’s property, look you, Redmond ; and the only way I have 
found of keeping a little about me. When the luck goes 
against me, why, my dear, my diamonds go to the pawnbrokers, 
and I wear paste. Friend Moses the goldsmith will pay me a 
visit this very day ; for the chances have been against me ail 
the week past, and I must raise money for the bank to-night. 
Do you understand the cards ? ” 

I replied that I could plav as soldiers do, but had no great 
skill. 

“We will practise in the morning, my boy,” said he, “ and 
I’ll put you up to a thing or two worth knowing.” 

Of course I was glad to have such an opportunity of ac- 
quiring knowledge, and professed myself delighted to receive 
my uncle's instruction. 

The chevalier’s account of himself rather disagreeablv af- 
fected me. All his show was on his back, as he said. His 


BARKY LYNDON, ESQ. 


107 

carriage, with the fine gilding, was a part of his stock in trade. 
He had a sort of mission from the Austrian court : — it was to 
discover whether a certain quantity of alloyed ducats which 
had been traced to Berlin, were from the king’s treasury. But 
the real end of Monsieur de Balibari was play. There was a 
young 'attach'e of the English embassy, my Lord Deuceace, 
afterwards Viscount and Earl of Crabs in the English peerage, 
who was playing high ; and it was after hearing of the passion 
of this young English nobleman that my uncle, then at Prague, 
determined to visit Berlin and engage him. For there is a 
sort of chivalry among the knights of the dice-box : the fame of 
great players is known all. over Europe. I have known the 
Chevalier de Casanova, for instance, to travel six hundred 
miles, from Paris to Turin, for the purpose of meeting Mr. 
Charles £'ox, then only my Lord Holland’s dashing son, after- 
wards the greatest of European orators and statesmen. 

It was agreed that I should keep my character of valet ; that 
in the presence of strangers I should not know a word of Eng- 
lish ; that I should keep a good look-out on the trumps when I 
was serving the champagne and punch about ; and having a re- 
markably fine eyesight and a great natural aptitude, I was speed- 
ily able to give my dear uncle much assistance against his op- 
ponents at the green table. Some prudish persons may affect 
indignation at the frankness of these confessions, but heaven 
pity them ! Do you suppose that any man who has lost 
or won a hundred thousand pounds at play will not take 
the advantages which his neighbor enjoys? They are all 
the same. But it is only the clumsy fool who cheats ; who 
resorts to the vulgar expedients of cogged dice and cut 
cards. Such a man is sure to go wrong some time or other, 
and is not fit to play in the society of gallant gentlemen ; 
and my advice to people who see such a vulgar person at 
his pranks is, of course to back him while he plays, but 
never — never to have anything to do with him. Play grandly, 
honorably. Be not, of course, cast down at losing ; but above 
all, be not eager at winning, as mean souls are. And, indeed, 
with all one’s skill and advantages winning is often problemati- 
cal ; I have seen a sheer ignoramus that knows no more of 
play than of Hebrew, blunder you out of five thousand pounds 
in a few turns of the cards. I have seen a gentleman and his 
confederate play against another and his confederate. One 
never is secure in these cases : and when one considers the 
time and labor spent, the genius, the anxiety, the outlay of 
money required, the multiplicity of bad debts that one me-ts 


io8 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


with (for dishonorable rascals are to be found at the play-table, 
as everywhere else in the world), I say, for my part, the pro- 
fession is a bad one ; and, indeed, have scarcely ever met a 
man who, in the end, profited by it. I am writing now with 
the experience of a man of the world. At the time I speak of 
I was a lad, dazzled by the idea of wealth, and respecting, 
certainly too much, my uncle’s superior age and station in life. 

There is no need to particularize here the little arrange- 
ments made between us ; the play-men of the present day want 
no instruction, I take it, and the public have little interest in the 
matter. But simplicity was our secret. Everything successful 
is simple. If, for instance, I wiped the dust off a chair with 
my napkin, it was to show that the enemy was strong in dia- 
monds ; if I pushed it, he had ace, king ; if I said, “ Punch or 
wine, my lord ? ” hearts were meant ; if “ Wine 01; punch ? ” 
clubs. If I blew my nose, it was to indicate that there was 
another confederate employed by the adversary * and then I 
warrant you, some pretty trials of skill would take place. My 
Lord Deuceace, although so young, had a very great skill and 
cleverness with the cards in every way ; and it was only from 
hearing Frank Punter, who came with him, yawn three times 
when the Chevalier had the ace of trumps, that I knew we were 
Greek to Greek, as it were. 

My assumed dulness was perfect ; and I used to make 
Monsieur de Potzdorff laugh with it, when I carried my little 
reports to him at the Garden-house outside the town where he 
gave me rendezvous. These reports, of course, were arranged 
between me and my uncle beforehand. I was instructed (and 
it is always far the best way) to tell as much truth as my story 
would possibly bear. When, for instance, he would ask me, 
“ What does the Chevalier do of a morning ? ” 

“ He goes to church regularly ” (he was very religious), “ and 
after hearing mass comes home to breakfast. Then he takes 
an airing in his chariot till dinner, which is served at noon. 
After dinner he writes his letters, if he have any letters to 
write : but he has verydittle to do in this way. His letters are 
to the Austrian envoy, with whom he corresponds, but who does 
not acknowledge him ; and being written in English, of course 
I look over his shoulder. He generally writes for money. He 
says he wants it to bribe the secretaries of the Treasury, in 
order to find out really where the alloyed ducats come from ; 
but, in fact, he wants to play of evenings, when he makes his 
party with Calsabigi, the lottery-contractor, the Russian attaches , 
two from the English embassy, my Lords Deuceace and Pun- 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


109 

ter, who play a jeu d'enfer , and a few more. The same set 
meet every night at supper : there are seldom any ladies ; those 
who come are chiefly French ladies, members of the corps de 
ballet. He wins often, but not always. Lord Deuceace is a 
very fine player. The Chevalier Elliot, the English Minister, 
sometimes comes, on which occasion the secretaries do not 
play. Monsieur de Balibari dines at the missions, but en petite 
comite , not on grand days of reception. Calsabigi, I think, is 
his confederate at play. He has won lately ; but the week 
before last he pledged his solitaire for four hundred ducats.” 

“ Do he and the English attaches talk together in their own 
language ? ” 

“Yes; he and the envoy spoke yesterday for half-an-hour 
about the new danseuse and the American troubles : chiefly 
about the new danseuse .” 

It will be seen that the information I gave was very minute 
and accurate, though not very important. But such as it was, 
it was carried to the ears of that famous hero and warrior the 
Philosopher of Sans Souci ; and there was not a stranger who 
entered the capital, but his actions were similarly spied and 
related to Frederick the Great. 

As long as the play was confined to the young men of the 
different embassies, his Majesty did not care to prevent it ; nay, 
he encouraged play at all the missions, knowing full well that 
a man in difficulties can be made to speak, and that a timely 
rouleau of Frederics would often get him a secret worth many 
thousands. He got some papers from the French house in this 
way : and I have no doubt that my Lord Deuceace would have 
supplied him with information at a similar rate, had his chief 
not known the young nobleman’s character pretty well, and had 
(as is usually the case) the work of the mission performed by a 
steady roturier, while the young brilliant bloods of the suite 
sported their embroidery at the balls, or shook their Mechlin 
ruffles over the green tables at faro. I have seen many scores 
of these young sprigs since, of these and their principals, and 
mon Dieu ! what fools they are ! What dullards, what fribbles, 
what addle-headed simple coxcombs ! This is one of the lies 
of the world, this diplomacy ; or how could we suppose, that 
were the profession as difficult as the solemn red-box and tape- 
men would have us believe, they would invariably choose for it 
little pink-faced boys from school, with no other claim than 
mamma’s title, and able at most to judge of a curricle, a new 
dance, or a neat boot ? 

When it became known, however, to the. officers of the 


I 10 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


garrison that there was a faro-table in town, they were wild to 
be admitted to the sport ; and, in spite of my entreaties to the 
contrary, my uncle was not averse to allow the young gentle- 
men their fling, and once or twice cleared a handsome sum out 
of their purses. It was in vain I told him that I must carry 
the news to my captain, before whom his comrades would not 
fail to talk, and who would thus know of the intrigue even 
without my information. 

“Tell him,” said my uncle. 

“They will send you away,” said I ; “then what is to become 
of me ? ” 

“ Make your mind easy,” said the latter, with a smile ; “ you 
shall not be left behind, I warrant you. Go take a last look at 
your barracks, make your mind easy ; say a farewell to your 
friends in Berlin. The dear souls, how they will weep when 
they hear you are out of the country ; and, as sure as my name 
is Barry, out of it you shall go ! ” 

“But how, sir?” said I. 

“ Recollect Mr. Fakenham of Fakenham,” said he know- 
ingly. “ ’ Tis you yourself taught me how. Go get me one of 
my wigs. Open my despatch-box yonder, where the great 
secrets of the Austrian chancer}* lie ; put your hair back off 
your forehead ; clap me on this patch and these mustaches, 
and now look in the glass ! ” 

“The Chevalier de Balibari,” said I, bursting with laughter, 
and began walking the room in his manner with his stiff knee. 

The next day, when I went to make my report to Monsieur 
de Potzdofif, I told him of the young Prussian officers that had 
been of late gambling ; and he replied, as I expected, that the 
king had determined to send the chevalier out of the country. 

“ He is a stingy curmudgeon,” I replied ; “ I have had but 
three Frederics from him in two months, and I hope you will 
remember your promise to advance me ! ” 

“ Why, three Frederics were too much for the news you have 
picked up,” said the captain, sneering. 

“It is not my fault that there has been no more,” I replied. 
“ When is he to go, sir ? ” 

“ The day after to-morrow. You say he drives after break- 
fast and before dinner. When he comes out to his carriage, 
a couple of gendarmes will mount the box, and the cocfchman 
will get his orders to move on.” 

“And his baggage, sir?” said I. 

“Oh! that will be sent after him. J have a fancy to look 
into that red box which contains his papers* you say; and at 


BARKY LYNDON \ ESQ. 


I T I 


noon, after parade, shall be at the inn. You will not say a 
word to any one there regarding the affair, and will wait for me 
at the chevalier’s rooms until my arrival. We must force that 
box. You are a clumsy hound, or you would have got the key 
long ago ! ” 

I begged the captain to remember me, and so took my leave 
of him. The next night I placed a couple of pistols under the 
carriage seat ; and I think the adventures of the following day 
are quite worthy of the honors of a separate chapter. 


CHAPTER IX. 


I APPEAR IN A MANNER BECOMING MY NAME AND LINEAGE. 

Fortune smiling at parting upon Monsieur de Balibari, 
enabled him to win a handsome sum with his faro-bank. 

At ten o'clock the next morning, the carriage of the Cheva- 
lier de Balibari drew up as usual at the door of his hotel ; and 
the chevalier, who was at his window, seeing the chariot arrive, 
came down the stairs in his usual stately manner. 

“ Where is my rascal Ambrose ? ” said he, looking around 
and not finding his servant to open the door. 

“ I will let down the steps for your honor,” said a gendarme, 
who was standing by the carriage ; and no sooner had the chev- 
alier entered, than the officer jumped in after him, another 
mounted the box by the coachman, and the latter began to 
drive. 

“ Good gracious ! ” said the Chevalier, “ what is this ? ” 

“ You are going to drive to the frontier,” said the gendarme , 
touching his hat. 

“ It is shameful — infamous ! I insist upon being put down 
at the Austrian ambassador’s house ! ” 

“ I have orders to gag your honor if you cry out,” said the 
gendarme. 

“ All Europe shall hear of this ! ” said the chevalier, in a 
fury. 

“ As you please,” answered the officer, and then both re- 
lapsed into silence. 

The silence was not broken between Berlin and Potzdam, 
through which place the chevalier passed as his Majesty was 
reviewing his guards there, and the regiments of Billow. Zitwitz, 


I I 2 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


and Henkel cle Do.nnersmark. As the chevalier passed his 
Majesty, the King raised his hat and said, “ Qu'il ne descende 
pas : je lui souhaite un bon voyage.” The Chevalier cle Bali- 
Dari acknowledged this courtesy by a profound bow. 

They had not got far beyond Potzdam, when boom ! the 
alarm cannon began to roar. 

“It is a deserter ! ” said the officer. 

“Is it possible ! ” said the chevalier, and sunk back into 
his carriage again'. 

Hearing the sound of the guns, the common people came 
out along the road with fowling-pieces and pitch-forks, in hopes 
to catch the truant. The gendarmes looked very anxious to be 
on the look-out for him too. The price of a deserter was fifty 
crowns to those who brought him in. 

“ Confess, sir,” said the chevalier to the police officer in 
the carriage with him, “ that you long to be rid of me, from 
whom you can get nothing, and to be on the look-out for the 
deserter who may bring you in fifty crowns ? Why not tell the 
postilion to push on ? You may land me at the frontier and 
get back to your hunt all the sooner.” The officer told the 
postilion to get on ; but the way seemed intolerably long to the 
chevalier. Once or twice he thought he heard the noise of 
horses galloping behind : his own horses did not seem to go two 
miles an hour; but they did go. The black and white barriers 
# came in view at last, hard by Briick, and opposite them the 
green and yellow of Saxony. The Saxon custom-house officers 
came out. 

“ I have no luggage,” said the chevalier. 

“The gentleman has nothing contraband,” said the Prussian 
officers, grinning, and took their leave of their prisoner with 
much respect. 

The Chevalier de Balibari gave them a Frederic a-piece. 

“Gentlemen,” said he, “ I wish you a good-day. Will you 
please to go to the house whence we set out from this morning, 
and tell my man there to send on my baggage to the ‘ Three 
Kings ’ at Dresden ? ” 

Then ordering fresh horses, the chevalier set off on his jour- 
ney for the capital. I need not tell you that / was the cheva- 
lier. 

“ From the Chevalier dk Baliijari to Redmond Barry, Esquire , Gentil • 
homme Anglais , cl V Hotel des 3 Couronnes , a Drcsde , e/i Saxe. 
“Mkphkw Redmond, — 'This comes to you by a sure hand, no other than 
Mr. Lumpit of the English Mission, who is acquainted, as all Berlin will be 
directly, with our wonderful story. They only know half aa ret ; they only 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


1 r 3 

know that a deserter went off in my clothes, and all are in admiration of 
your cleverness and valor. 

“ I confess that for two hours after your departure I lay in bed in no 
small trepidation, thinking whether his Majesty might have a fancy to send 
me to Spandau for the freak of which we had both been guilty. But in 
that case I had taken my precautions : I had written a statement of the 
case to my chief, the Austrian Minister, with the full and true storv how you 
had been set to spy upon me, how you turned out to be my very near rela- 
tive, how you had been kidnapped yourself into the service, and how we 
both had determined to effect your escape. The laugh would have been so 
much against the king, that he never would have dared to lay a finger upon 
me. What would Monsieur de Voltaire have said to such an act of tyranny ? 

“ But it was a lucky day, and everything has turned out to my wish. As 
I lay in my bed two and a half hours after your departure, in comes your 
ex-Captain Potzdorff. ‘ Redmont ! ’ says he, in his imperious High Dutch 
way, ‘ are you there ? ’ No answer. 4 The rogue is gone out,’ said he ; and 
straightway makes for my red box where I keep my love-letters, my glass 
eye which I used to wear, my favorite lucky dice with which I threw the 
thirteen mains at Prague ; my two sets of Paris teeth, and my other private 
matters that you know of. 

“ He first tried a bunch of keys, but none of them would fit the little 
English lock Then my gentleman takes out of his pocket a chisel and 
hammer, and falls to work like a professional burglar, actually bursting open 
my little box ! 

'* Now was my time to act. I advance towards hira armed with an 
immense water-jug. I come noiselessly up to him just as he had broken 
the box, and with all my might, I deal him such a blow over the head as 
smashes the water-jug to atoms, and sends my captain with a snort lifeless 
to the ground. I thought I had killed him. 

‘‘Then I ring all the bells in the house; and shout and swear, and 
scream, ‘Thieves! — thieves! — landlord! — murder! — fire!’ until the whole 
household come tumbling up the stairs. ‘Where is my servant?’ roar I. 

4 Who dares to rob me in open day ? Look at the villain whom I find in 
the act of breaking my chest open ! Send for the police, send for his Ex- 
cellency the Austrian Minister! all Europe shall know of this insult ! ’ 

“ ‘ Dear heaven ! ’ says the landlord, ‘ we saw you go away three hours 
ago!’ 

“ * Me ! ’ says I ; ‘ why, man, I have been in bed all the morning. I am 
ill — I have taken physic— I have not left the house this morning ! Where 
is that scoundrel Ambrose ? But, stop ! where are my clothes and wig ? ’ 
for I was standing before them in my chamber-gown and stockings with 
my nightcap on. 

“ ‘ I have it — I have it ! ’ says a little chamber-maid ; ‘ Ambrose is off in 
your honor’s dress.’ 

“ 4 And my money — my money ! ’ says I ; 4 where is my purse with forty- 
eight Frederics in it ? But we have one of the villains left. Officers, seize 
him ! ’ 

“ 4 It’s the young Herr von Potzdorff! ’ says the landlord, more and more 
astonished. 

44 4 What ! a gentleman breaking open my trunk with hammer and chisel 
— impossible ! ’ 

“ Her von Potzdorff was returning to life by this time, with a swelling 
on his skull as big as a saucepan ; and the officers carried him off, and the 
judge who was sent for dressed a prods verbal of the matter, and I de- 
manded a copy of it, which I sent forthwith to mv ambassador. 

8 


THE MEMOIRS OE 


i 1 4 


“ 1 was kept a prisoner to my room the next day, and a judge,' a general, 
and a host of lawyers, officers, and officials, were set upon me to bully, 
perplex, threaten, and cajole me. I said it was true you had told me that 
you had been kidnapped into the service, that I thought you were released 
from it, and that I had you with the best recommendations. I appealed to 
my Minister, who was bound to come to my aid; and, to make a long 
storv short, poor Potzdorff is now on his way to Spandau ; and his uncle, 
the elder Potzdorff, has brought me five hundred louis, with a humble re- 
quest that I would leave Berlin forthwith, and hush up this painful matter. 

“ I shall be with you at the ‘ Three Crowns ’ the day after you receive 
this, Ask Mr. Lumpit to dinner. Do not spare your money — you are my 
son. Everybody in Dresden knows your loving uncle, 

“ Thf. Chevalier i>e Ualikari.” 

And by these wonderful circumstances I was once more 
free again : and I kept my resolution then made, never to fall 
more into the hands of any recruiter, and thenceforth and for 
ever to be a gentleman. 

With this sum of money, and a good run of luck which en- 
sued presently, we were enabled to make no ungenteel figure. 
My uncle speedily joined me at the inn at Dresden, where, 
under pretenc^ of illness, I had kept quiet until his arrival ; 
and, as the Chevalier de Balibari was in particular good odor 
at the court of Dresden (having been an intimate acquaintance 
of the late monarch, the Elector, King of Poland, the most dis- 
solute and agreeable of European princes), J was speedily in 
the very best society of the Saxon capital : where I may say 
that my own person and manners, and the singularity of the 
adventures in which 1 had been a hero, made me especially 
welcome. r Phere was not a party of the nobility to which the 
two gentlemen of Balibari were not invited. I had the honor 
of kissing hands and being graciously received at court by the 
Elector, and I wrote home to my mother such a flaming de- 
scription of my prosperity, that the good sold very nearly forgot 
her celestial welfare and her confessor, the Rev. Joshua Jowls, 
in order to come after me to Germany : but travelling was very 
difficult in those days, and so we were spared the arrival of the 
good lady. 

I think the soul of Harry Barry, my father, who was always 
so genteel in his turn of mind, must have rejoiced to see the 
position which 1 now occupied : all the women anxious to re- 
ceive me, all the men in a fury ; hobnobbing with dukes and 
counts at supper, dancing minuets with high well-born baronesses 
(as they absurdly call themselves in Germany), with lovely ex- 
cellencies, nay, with highnesses and transparencies themselves, 
who could compete with* the gallant young Irish noble? who 


BARRY L Y1VDO1V, ESQ . 


IT 5 

would suppose that seven weeks before I had been a common — « 
bah 1 I am ashamed to think of it ! One of the pleasantest 
moments of my life was at a grand gala at the Electoral Palace, 
where I had the honor of walking a polonaise with no other 
than the Margravine of Bayreuth, old Fritz’s own sister : old 
Fritz’s, whose hateful blue-baize livery I had worn, whose belts 
I had pipe-clayed, and whose abominable rations of small beer 
and sauerkraut I had swallowed for five years. 

Having won an English chariot from an Italian gentleman 
at play, my uncle had our arms painted on the panels in a more 
splendid way than ever, surmounted‘(as we were descended from 
the ancient kings) with an Irish crown of the most splendid size 
and gilding. 1 had this crown in lieu of a coronet engraved on 
a large amethyst signet-ring worn on my forefinger ; and I don’t 
mind confessing that I used to say the jewel had been in my 
family for several thousand years, having originally belonged to 
my direct ancestor, his late Majesty King Brian Boru, or Barry. 

I warrant the legends of the Heralds’ ’College are not more 
authentic than mine was. 

At first the Minister and the gentlemen at the English hotel . 
used to be rather shy of us two Irish noblemen, and questioned 
our pretensions to rank. The Minister was a lord’s son, it is 
true, but he was likewise a grocer’s grandson ; and so I told 
him at Count Lobkowitz’s masquerade. My uncle, like a noble 
gentleman as he was, knew the pedigree of every considerable 
family in Europe. He said it was the only knowledge befitting 
a gentleman ; and when we were not at cards, we would pass 
hours over Gwillim or D’PIozier, reading the genealogies, learn- 
ing the blazons, and making ourselves acquainted with the 
relationships of our class. Alas ! the noble science is going 
into disrepute now ; so are cards, without which studies and 
pastimes I can hardly conceive how a man of honor can exist. 

My first affair of honor with a man of undoubted fashion 
was on the score of my nobility, with young Sir Rumford Bum- 
ford of the English embassy; my uncle at the same time send- 
ing a cartel to the Minister, who declined to come. I shot Sir 
Rumford in the leg, amidst the tears of joy of my uncle, who 
accompanied me to the ground ; and I promise you that none 
of the young gentlemen questioned the authenticity of my pedi- 
gree, or laughed at my Irish crown again. 

What a delightful life did we now lead ! I knew I was 
born a gentleman, from the kindly way in which I took to the 
business : as business it certainly is. For though it seems all 
pleasure, yet I assure any low-bred persons who may chance to 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


1 16 

read this, that we, their betters, have to work as well as they : 
though I did not rise until noon, yet had I not been up at play 
until long past midnight ? Many a time have we come home to 
bed as the troops were marching ouc to early parade ; and oh ! 
it did my heart good to hear the bugles blowing the reveille be- 
fore daybreak, or to see the regiments marching out to exercise, 
and think that I was no longer bound to that disgusting disci- 
pline, but restored to my natural station. 

I came into it at once, and as if I had never done anything 
else all my life. I had a gentleman to wait upon me, a French 
friseur to dress my hair of a morning ; I knew the taste of choc- 
olate as by intuition almost, and could distinguish between the 
right Spanish and the French before I had been a week in my 
new position ; I had rings on all my fingers, watches in both 
my fobs, canes, trinkets, and snuff-boxes of all sorts, and each 
outvying the other in elegance. I had the finest natural taste 
for lace and china of. any man I ever knew ; I could judge a 
horse as well as any Jew dealer in Germany ; in shooting and 
athletic exercises I was unrivalled ; I could not spell, but I 
could speak German and French cleverly. I had at the least 
twelve suits of clothes ; three richly embroidered with gold, 
two laced with silver, a garnet-colored velvet pelisse lined with 
sable ; one of French gray, silver-laced and lined with chin- 
chilla. I had damask morning-robes. I took lessons on the 
guitar, and sang French catches exquisitely. Where, in fact, 
was there a more accomplished gentleman than Redmond de 
Balibari ? 

All the luxuries becoming my station could not, of course, 
be purchased without credit and money : to procure which, 
as our patrimony had been wasted by our ancestors, and we 
were above the vulgarity and slow returns and doubtful 
chances of trade, my uncle kept a faro-bank. We were in part- 
nership with a Florentine, well known in all the courts of 
Europe, the Count Alessandro Pippi, as skilful a player as 
ever was seen ; but he turned out a sad knave latterly, and I 
have discovered that his countship was a mere imposture. 
My uncle was maimed, as I have said ; Pippi, like all im- 
postors, was a coward ; it was my unrivalled skill with the 
sword, and readiness to use it. that maintained the reputation 
of the firm so to speak, and silenced many a timid gambler 
who might have hesitated to pay his losings. We always played 
on parole with anybody ; any person, that is, of honor and 
noble lineage. Wc never pressed for our winnings or declined 
to receive promissory notes in lieu of gold. But woe to the 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


ji 7 

man who did not pay when the note became due ! Redmond 
de Balibari was sure to wait upon him with his bill, and 1 prom- 
ise you there were very few bad debts : on the contrary, 
gentlemen were grateful to us for our forbearance, and our 
character for honor stood unimpeached. In later times, a 
vulgar national prejudice has chosen to cast a slur upon the 
character of men of honor engaged in the profession of play ; 
but I speak of the good old days in Europe, before the cowar- 
dice of the French aristocracy (in the shameful Revolution, 
which served them right) brought discredit and ruin upon our 
order. They cry fie now upon men engaged in play ; but I 
should like to know how much more honorable their modes of 
livelihood are than ours. The broker of the Exchange who 
bulls and bears, and buys and sells, and dabbles with lying 
loans, and trades on state-secrets, what is he but a gamester ? 
The merchant who deals in teas and tallow, is he any better? 
His bales of dirty indigo are his dice, his cards come up every 
year instead of every ten minutes, and the sea is his green 
table. You call the profession of the law an honorable one, 
where a man will lie for any bidder : lie down poverty for the 
sake of a fee from wealth, lie down right because wrong is in 
his brief. You call a doctor an honorable man, a swindling 
quack, who does not believe in the nostrums which he pre- 
scribes, and takes your guinea for whispering in your ear that 
it is a fine morning ; and yet, forsooth, a gallant man who sits 
him down before the baize and challenges all comers, his money 
against theirs, his fortune against theirs, is proscribed by your 
modern moral world. It is a conspiracy of the middle classes 
against gentlemen : it is only the shopkeeper cant which is to go 
down nowadays. I say that play was an institution of chivalry : 
it has been wrecked, along with other privileges of men of birth. 
When Seingalt engaged a man for six-and-thirty hours without 
leaving the table, do you think he showed no courage ? How 
have we had the best blood, and the brightest eyes, too, of 
Europe throbbing round the table, as I and my uncle have held 
the cards and the bank against some terrible player, who was 
matching some thousands out of his millions against our all which 
was there on the baize ! When we engaged that daring Alexis 
Kossloffsky, and won seven thousand louis in a single coup, 
had we lost, we should have been beggars the next day ; when 
he lost, he was only a village and a few hundred serfs in pawn 
the worse. When at Toeplitz, the Duke of Courland Brought 
fourteen lacqueys, each with four bags of florins, and challenged 
our bank to. play against the sealed bags, what did we ask ? 


TJIE MEMOIRS OF 


I 18 

“ Sir,” said we, “ we have but eighty thousand florins in bank, 
or two hundred thousand at three months. If your highness’s 
bags do not contain more that eighty thousand, we will meet 
you.*’ And we did, and after eleven hours’ play, in which our 
bank was at one time reduced to two hundred and three ducats, 
we won seventeen thousand florins of him. Is this not some- 
thing like boldness ? does this profession not require skill, and 
perseverance, and bravery ? Four crowned heads looked on at 
the game, and an imperial princess, when I turned up the ace 
of hearts and made Paroli, burst into tears No man on the 
European Continent held a higher position than Redmond 
Barry then : and when the Duke of Courland lost, he was 
pleased to say that we had won nobly : and so we had, and 
spent nobly what we won. 

At this period my uncle, who attended mass every day 
regularly, always ,put ten florins into the box. Wherever we 
went, the tavern-keepers made us more welcome than royal 
princes. We used to give away the broken meat from our sup- 
pers and dinners to scores of beggars who blessed us. Every 
man who held my horse or cleaned my boots got a ducat for 
his pains. I was, I may say, the author of our common good 
fortune, by putting boldness into our play. Pippi was a faint 
hearted fellow, who was always cowardly when he began to win. 
My uncle (I speak with great respect of him) was too much of 
a devotee, and too much of a martinet at play ever to win 
greatly. Plis moral courage was unquestionable, but his daring 
was not sufficient. Both of these my seniors very soon ac- 
knowledged me to be their chief, and hence the style of splen- 
dor I have described. 

I have mentioned H. I. H. the Princess Frederica Amelia, 
who was affected by my success, and shall always think with 
gratitude of the protection with which that exalted lady hon- 
ored me. She was passionately fond of play, as indeed were 
the ladies of almost all the courts in Europe in those days, 
and hence would often arise no small trouble to us ; for the 
truth must be told, that ladies love to play, certainly, but not 
to pay. The point of honor is not understood by the charm- 
ing sex ; and it was with the greatest difficulty, in our pere- 
grinations to the various courts of Northern Europe, that we 
could keep them from the table, could get their money if they 
lost, or, if they paid, prevent them from using the most furious 
and extraordinary means of revenge. In those great days of 
our fortune, I calculate that we lost no less than fourteen 
thousand louis by such failures of payment. A princess of a 


BARRY LYNDON. ESQ. 


lI 9 

ducal house gave us paste instead of diamonds, which she had 
solemnly pledged to us ; another organized a robbery of the 
crown jewels, and would have charged the theft upon us, but 
for Pippi’s caution, who had kept back a note of hand “ her 
High Transparency” gave us, and sent it to his ambassador; 
by which precaution I do believe our necks were saved. A 
third lady of high (but not princely) rank, after I had won a 
considerable sum in diamonds and pearls from her, sent her 
lover with a band of cut-throats to waylay me, and it was only 
by extraordinary courage, skill, and good luck, that I escaped 
from these villains, wounded myself, but leaving the chief ag- 
gressor dead on the ground : my sword entered his eye and 
broke there, and the villains who were with him fled, seeing 
their chief fall. They might have finished me else, for I hacl 
no weapon of defence. 

Thus it will be seen that our life, for all its splendor, was 
one of extreme danger and difficulty, requiring high talents 
and courage for success ; and often, when we were in a full vein 
of success, we were suddenly driven from our ground on ac- 
count of some freak of a reigning prince, some intrigue of a 
disappointed mistress, or some quarrel with the police minister. 
If the latter personage were not bribed or won over, nothing was 
more common than for us to receive a sudden order of de- 
parture ; and so, perforce, we lived a wandering and desultory 
life. 

Though the gains of such a life are, as I have said, very 
great, yet the expenses are enormous. Our appearance and 
retinue was too splendid for the narrow mind of Pippi, who was 
always crying out at my extravagance, though obliged to own 
that his own meanness and parsimony would never have 
achieved the great victories which my generosity had won. 
With all our success, our capital was not very great. That 
speech to the Duke of Courland, for instance, was a mere boast 
as far as the two hundred thousand florins at three months 
were concerned. We had no credit, and no money beyond that 
on our table, and should have been forced to fly if his highness 
had won and accepted our bills. Sometimes, too, we were hit 
very hard. A bank is a certainty, almost ; but now and then 
a bad day will come : and men who have the courage of good 
fortune, at least, ought to meet bad luck well : the former, 
believe me, is the harder task of the two. 

One of these evil chances befell us in the Duke of Baden’s 
territory, at Mannheim. Pippi,' who was always on the look- 
out for business, offered to make a bank at the inn where we 


120 


TIIE MEMOIRS OF 


put up, and where the officers of the duke’s cuirassiers supped ; 
and some small play accordingly took place, and some wretched 
crowns and louis changed hands : 1 trust, rather to the ad- 
vantage of these poor gentlemen of the army, who were surely 
the poorest of all devils under the sun. 

But, as ill luck would have it, a couple of young students 
from the neighboring University of Heidelberg, who had come 
to Mannheim for their quarter’s revenue, and so had some 
hundred of dollars between them, were introduced to the table, 
and, having never played before, began to win (as is always the 
case). As ill luck would have it, too, they were tipsy, and 
against tipsiness I have often found the best calculations of 
play fail entirely. They played in the most perfectly insane 
way, and yet won always. Every card they backed turned up 
in their favor. They had won a hundred louis from us in ten 
minutes ; and, seeing that Pippi- was growing angry and the 
luck against us, I was for shutting up the bank for the night, 
saying the play was only meant for a joke, and that now we 
had had enough. 

But Pippi, who had quarrelled with me that day, was de- 
termined to proceed, and the upshot was, that the students 
played and won more ; then they lent money to the officers, 
who had begun to win, too : and in this ignoble way, in a 
tavern room thick with tobacco-smoke, across a deal table be 
smeared with beer and liquor, and to a parcel of hungry sub- 
alterns and a pair of beardless students, three of the most 
skilful and renowned players in Europe lost seventeen hundred 
louis! I blush now when I think of it. It was like Charles 
XII. or Richard Cceur de Lion falling before a petty fortress 
and an unknown hand (as my friend Mr. Johnson wrote), and 
was, in fact, a most shameful defeat. 

Nor was this the only defeat. When our poor conquerors 
had gone off, bewildered with the treasure which fortune had 
flung in their way (one of these students was called the Baron 
de Clootz, perhaps he who afterwards lost his head at Paris), 
Pippi resumed the quarrel of the morning, and some exceed- 
ingly high words passed between us. Among other things I 
recollect I knocked him down with a stool, and was for flinging 
him out of the window ; but my uncle, who was cool, and had 
been keeping Lent with his usual solemnity, interposed between 
us, and a reconciliation took place, Pippi apologizing and con- 
fessing he had been wrong. 

I ought to have doubted, however, the sincerity of the 
treacherous Italian ; indeed, as I never before believed a word 


BARRY LYNDOX, ESQ. 


12 i 


that he said in his life, T know not why I was so foolish as to 
credit him now, and go to bed, leaving the keys of our cash- 
box with him. It contained, after our loss to the cuirassiers, 
in bills and money, near upon 8,000/. sterling. Pippi insisted 
that our reconciliation should be ratified over a bowl of hot 
wine, and I have no doubt put some soporific drug into the 
liquor ; for my uncle and I both slept till very late the next 
morning, and woke with violent headaches and fever : we did 
not quit our beds till noon. He had been gone twelve hours, 
leaving our treasury empty ; and behind him a sort of calcu- 
lation, by which he strove to make out that this was his share 
of the profits, and that all the losses had been incurred with- 
out his consent. 

Thus, after eighteen months, we had to begin the world 
again. But was I cast down ? No. Our wardrobes still were 
worth a very large sum of money ; for gentlemen did not dress 
like parish-clerks in those days, and a person of fashion would 
often wear a suit of clothes and a set of ornaments that 
would be a shop-boy’s fortune ; so, without repining for one 
single minute, or saying a single angry word (my uncle’s tem- 
per in this respect was admirable), or allowing the secret of 
our loss to be known to a mortal soul, we pawned three-fourths 
of our jewels and clothes to Moses Lowe the banker, and 
with the produce of the sale, and our private pocket-money, 
amounting in all to something less than 800 louis, we took 
the field again. 


CHAPTER X. 

MORE RUNS OF LUCK. 

I am not going to entertain my readers with an account of 
my professional career as a gamester, any more than I did with 
anecdotes of my life as a military man. 1 might fill volumes 
with tales of this kind were I so minded ; but at this rate, 
my recital would not be brought to a conclusion for years, 
and who knows how soon I may be called upon to stop ? I 
have gout, rheumatism, gravel, and a disordered liver. I have 
two or three wounds in my body, which break out every now 
and then, and give me intolerable pain, and a hundred more 


12 ? 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


signs of breaking up. Such are the effects of time, illness, and 
free living, upon one of the strongest constitutions and finest 
forms the world ever saw. Ah ! I suffered from none of these 
ills in the year ’66, when there was no man in Europe more 
gay in spirits, more splendid in personal accomplishments, than 
young Redmond Barry. 

Before the treachery of the scoundrel Pippi, I had visited 
many of the best courts of Europe ; especially the smaller ones, 
where play was patronized, and the professors of that science 
always welcome. Among the ecclesiastical principalities of the 
Rhine we were particularly well received. I never knew finer 
or gayer courts than those of the Electors of Treves and 
Cologne, where there was more splendor and gayetv than at 
Vienna ; far more than in the wretched barrack-court of Ber- 
lin. The court of the Archduchess-Governess of the Nether 
lands was, likewise, a royal place for us knights of the dice-box 
and gallant votaries of fortune ; whereas in the stingy Dutch, 
or the beggarly Swiss republics, it was impossible for a gentle- 
man to gain a livelihood unmolested. 

After our mishap at Mannheim, my uncle and I made for the 

Duchy of X . The reader may find out the place easily 

enough ; but I do not choose to print at full the names of 
some illustrious persons in whose society I then fell, and 
among whom I was made the sharer in a very strange and 
tragical adventure. 

There was no court in Europe at which strangers were more 

welcome than at that of the noble Duke of X ; none where 

pleasure was more eagerly sought after, and more splendidly 

enjoyed. The prince did not inhabit his capital of S , but, 

imitating in every respect the ceremonial of the court of Ver- 
sailles, built himself a magnificent palace at a few leagues from 
his chief city, and round about his palace a superb aristocratic 
town, inhabited entirely by his nobles, and the officers of his 
sumptuous court. The people were rather hardly pressed, to 
be sure, in order to keep up this splendor ; for his highness’s 
dominions were small, and so he wisely lived in a sort of awful 
retirement from them, seldom showing his face in his capital, 
or seeing any countenances but those of his faithful domestics 
and officers. His palace and gardens of Ludwigslust were 
exactly on the French model. Twice a week there were court 
receptions, and grand court galas twice a month. There was 
the finest opera out of France, and a ballet unrivalled in splen- 
dor ; on which his highness, a great lover of music and dancing, 
expended prodigious sums. It maybe because I was then 


BA RR Y L ; WDOiY, ESQ. T 3 - 

young, but I think I never saw such an assemblage of brilliant 
beauty as used to figure there on the stage of the court theatre, 
in the grand mythological ballets which were then the mode, and 
in which you saw Mars in red-heeled pumps and a periwig, and 
Venus in patches and a hoop. They say the custom was in- 
correct, and have changed it since ; but for my part, I have 
never seen a Venus more lovely than the Coral ie, who was the 
chief dancer, and found no fault with the attendant nymphs, in 
their trains and lappets, and powder. These operas used to 
take place twice a week, after which some great officer of the 
court would have his evening, and his brilliant supper, and the 
dice-box rattled everywhere, and all the world played, I have 
seen seventy play tables set out in the grand gallery of Lud- 
wigslust, besides the faro-bank ; where the duke himself would 
graciously come and play, and win or lose with a truly royal 
splendor. 

It was hither we came after the Mannheim misfortune. The 
nobility of the court were pleased to say our reputation had 
preceded us, and the two Irish gentlemen were made welcome. 
The very first night at court we lost 740 of our 800 louis ; the 
next evening, at the Court Marshal’s table, I won them back, 
with 1,300 more. You may be sure we allowed no one to know 
how near we were to ruin on the first evening ; but, on the con- 
trary, I endeared every one to me by my gay manner of losing, 
and the Finance Minister himself cashed a note for 400 ducats, 
drawn by me upon my steward of Ballybarry Castle in the king- 
dom of Ireland ; which very note I won from his Excellency 
the next day, along with a considerable sum in ready cash. In 
that noble court everybody was a gambler. You would see the 
lacqueys in the ducal ante-rooms at work with their dirty packs 
of cards ; the coach and chair-men playing in the court, while 
their masters were punting in the saloons above ; the very 
cook-maids and scullions, I was told, had a bank, where one of 
them, an Italian confectioner, made a handsome fortune ; he 
purchased afterwards a .Roman marquisate, and his son has 
figured as one of the most fashionable of the illustrious foreigners 
in London. The poor devils of soldiers played away their pay 
when they got it, which was seldom ; and I don’t believe there 
was an officer in any one of the guard regiments but had his 
cards in his pouch, and no more forgot his dice than his sword- 
knot. Among such fellows it was diamond cut diamond. What 
you call fair play would have been a folly. The gentlemen of 
Ballybarry would have been fools, indeed, to appear as pigeons 
in such a hawk’s nest. None but men of courage and genius 


124 


THE MEMOIRS OE 


could live and prosper in a society where every one was bold 
and clever ; and here my uncle and I held our own : ay, and 
more than our own. 

His highness the duke was a widower, or rather, since the 
death of the reigning duchess, had contracted a Morganatic 
marriage with a lady whom he had ennobled, and who considered 
it a compliment (such was the morality of those days) to be 
called the Northern Dubarry. He had been married very 
young, and his son, the hereditary prince, may be said to have 
been the political sovereign of the state ; for the reigning duke 
was fonder of pleasure than of politics, and loved to talk a great 
deal more with his grand huntsman, or the director of his opera, 
than with ministers and ambassadors. 

The hereditary prince, whom I shall call Prince Victor, was 
of a very different character from his august father. He had 
made the Wars of the Succession and Seven Years with great 
credit in the Empress’s service, was of a stern character, seldom 
appeared at court, except when ceremony called him, but lived 
almost alone in his wing of the palace, where he devoted him- 
self to the severest studies, being a great astronomer and chemist. 
He shared in the rage then common throughout Europe, of 
hunting for the philosopher’s stone : and my uncle often re- 
gretted that he had no smattering of chemistry, like Balsamo 
(who called himself Cagliostro), St. Germain, and other in- 
dividuals, who had obtained very great sums from Duke Victor 
by aiding him in his search after the great secret. His amuse- 
ments were hunting and reviewing the troops ; but for him, and 
if his good-natured father had not; had his aid, the army would 
have been playing at cards all day, and so it was well that the 
prudent prince was left to govern. 

Duke Victor was fifty years of age, and his princess, the 
Princess Olivia, was scarce three-and-twenty. They had been 
married seven years, and in the first years of their union the 
princess had borne him a son and a daughter. The stern morals 
and manners, the dark and ungainly appearance, of the husband, 
were little likely to please the brilliant and fascinating young 
woman, who had been educated in the south (she was connected 

with the ducal house of S ), who had passed two years at 

Paris under the guardianship of Mesdames the daughters of his 
Most Christian Majesty, and who was the life and soul of the 

court of X , the gayest of the gay r the idol of her august father- 

in-law, and, indeed, of the whole court. She was not beautiful, 
but charming ; not witty, but charming, too, in her conversation 
as in her person. She was extravagant beyond all measure ; so 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


I2 5 


false, that you could not trust her ; but her very weaknesses 
were more winning than the virtues of other women, her selfish- 
ness more delightful than others’ generosity. I never knew a 
woman whose faults made her so attractive. She used to ruin 
people, and yet they all loved her. My old uncle has seen her 
cheating at ombre, and let her win 400 louis without resisting 
in the least. Her caprices with the officers and ladies of her 
household were ceaseless : but they adored her. She was the 
only one of the reigning family whom the people worshipped. 
She never went abroad but they followed her carriage with 
shouts of acclamation : and, to be generous to them, she would 
borrow the last penny from one of her poor maids of honor, 
whom she would never pay. In the early days her husband 
was as much fascinated by her as all the rest of the world was ; 
but her caprices had caused frightful outbreaks of temper on his 
part, and an estrangement which, though interrupted by almost 
mad returns of love, was still general. I speak of her royal 
highness with perfect candor and admiration, although I might 
be pardoned for judging her more severely, considering her 
opinion of myself. She said the elder Monsieur de Balibari 
was a finished old gentleman, and the younger one had the man- 
ners of a courier. The world has given a different opinion, 
and I can afford to chronicle this almost single sentence against 
me. Besides, she had a reason for her dislike to me, which 
you shall hear. 

Five years in the army, long experience of the world, had ere 
now dispelled any of those romantic notions regarding love with 
which ! commenced life ; and I had determined, as is proper 
with gentlemen (it is only your low people who marry for mere 
affection), to consolidate my fortunes by marriage. In the 
course of our peregrinations, my uncle ancl I had made several 
attempts to carry this object into effect ; but numerous disap- 
pointments had occurred, which are not worth mentioning here, 
and had prevented me hitherto from making such a match as I 
thought was worthy of a man of my birth, abilities, and personal 
appearance. Ladies are not in the habit of running away on 
the Continent, as is the custom in England (a custom whereby 
many honorable gentlemen of my country have much bene 
fited ! ) ; guardians, and ceremonies, and difficulties of all kinds 
intervene ; true love is not allowed to have its course, and poor 
women cannot give away their Jionest hearts to the gallant 
fellows who have won them. Now it was settlements that were 
asked for ; now it was my pedigree and title-deeds that were 
not satisfactory : though I had a plan and rent-roll of the Bally- 


126 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


harry estates, and the genealogy of the family up to King Brian 
Boru, or Barry, most handsomely designed on paper ; now it 
was a young lady who was whisked off to a convent just as she 
was ready to fall into my arms; on another occasion, when a 
rich widow of the Low Countries was about to make me lord of 
a noble estate in Flanders, comes an order of the police which 
drives me out of Brussels at an hour’s notice, and consigns my 

mourner to her chateau. But at X I had an opportunity of 

playing a great game : and had won it too, but for the dreadful 
catastrophe which upset my fortune. 

In the household of the hereditary princess, there was a 
lady nineteen years of age, and possessor of the greatest fortune 
m the whole duchy. The Countess Ida, such was her name, 
was daughter of a late Minister and favorite of his Highness 

the Duke of X and his Duchess, who had done her the 

honor to be her sponsors at birth, and who, at the father’s death, 
had taken her under their august guardianship and protection. 
At sixteen she was brought from her castle, where, up to that 
period, she had been permitted to reside, and had been placed 
with the Princess Olivia, as one of her highness’s maids of honor. 

The aunt of the Countess Ida, who presided over her house 
during her minority, had foolishly allowed her to contract an 
attachment for her cousin-german, a penniless sub-lieutenant 
in one of the duke’s foot regiments, who had flattered himself 
to be able to carry off this rich prize ; and if he had not been 
a blundering, silly idiot, indeed, with the advantage of seeing 
her constantly, of having no rival near him, and the intimacy 
attendant upon close kinsmanship, might easily, by a private 
marriage, have secured the young countess and her possessions. 
But he managed matters so foolishly, that he allowed her to 
leave her retirement, to come to court for a year, and take her 
place in the Princess Olivia’s household ; and then what does 
my young gentleman do, but appear at the duke’s levee one 
day, in his tarnished epaulet and threadbare coat, and make 
an application in due form to his highness, as the young lady’s 
guardian, for the hand of the richest heiress in his dominions ! 

The weakness of the good-natured prince was such that, as 
the Countess Ida herself was quite as eager for the match as 
her silly cousin, his highness might have been induced to allow 
the match, had not the Princess Olivia been induced to inter- 
pose, and to procure from the duke a peremptory veto to the 
hopes of the young man. The cause of this refusal was as yet 
unknown ; no other suitor for the young lady’s hand was men- 
tioned, and the lovers continued to correspond, hoping that 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


127 


time might effect a change in his highness’s resolutions ; when, 
of a sudden, the lieutenant was drafted into one of the regi- 
ments which the prince was in the habit of selling to the great 
powers then at war (this military commerce was a principal 
part of his highness’s and other princes’ revenues in those 
days), and their connection was thus abruptly broken off. 

It was strange that the Princess Olivia should have taken 
this part against a young lady who had been her favorite ; for, 
at first, with those romantic and sentimental notions which al 
most every woman has, she had somewhat encouraged the 
Countess Ida and her penniless lover, but now suddenly turned 
against them ; and, from loving the countess, as she previous- 
ly had done, pursued hei with every manner of hatred which 
a woman knows how to inflict ; there was no jend to the inge 
nuity of her tortures, the venom of her tongue, the bitterness 
of her sarcasm and scorn. When I first came to court at 

X , the young fellows there had nicknamed the young lady 

the Dumme Grdfinn , the stupid countess. She was generally 
silent, handsome, but pale, stolid-looking, and awkward ; taking 
no interest in the amusements of the place, and appearing in 
the midst of the feasts as glum as the death’s-head which, they 
say, the Romans used to have at their tables. 

It was rumored that a young gentleman of French ex- 
traction, the Chevalier de Magny, equerry to the hereditary 
prince, and present at Paris when the Princess Olivia was mar- 
ried to him by proxy there, was the intended of the rich Count- 
ess Ida ; but no official declaration of the kind was yet made, 
and there were whispers of a dark intrigue : which, subsequently, 
received frightful confirmation. 

This Chevalier de Magny was the grandson of an old gen- 
eral officer in the duke’s service, the Baron de Magny. The 
baron’s father had quitted France at the expulsion of Protes- 
tants, after the revocation of the edict of Nantes, and taken 

service in X , where he died. The son succeeded him, and 

quite unlike most French gentlemen of birth whom I have 
known, was a stern and cold Calvinist, rigid in the performance 
of his duty, retiring in his manners, mingling little with the 
court, and a close friend and favorite of Duke Victor ; whom 
he resembled in disposition. 

The chevalier his grandson was a true Frenchman : he had 
been born in France, where his father held a diplomatic ap- 
pointment in the duke’s service. He had mingled in the gay 
society of the most brilliant court in the world, and had endless 
stories to tell us of the pleasures of the petites maisons , of the 


128 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


secrets of the Parc aux Cerfs, and of the wild gayeties of Riche- 
lieu and his companions. He had been almost ruined at play, 
as his father had been before him ; for, out of the reach of the 
stern old baron in Germany, both son and grandson had led 
the most reckless of lives. He came back from Paris soon 
after the embassy which had been despatched thither on the 
occasion of the marriage of the princess, was received sternly 
by his old grandfather ; who, however, paid his debts once 
more, and procured him the post in the duke’s household. 
The Chevalier de Magny rendered himself a great favorite of 
his august master ; he brought with him the modes and the 
gayeties of Paris ; lie was the deviser of all masquerades and 
balls, the recruiter of the ballet-dancers, and by far the most 
brilliant and splendid young gentleman of the court. 

After we had been a few weeks at Ludwigslust, the old 
Baron de Magny endeavored to have us dismissed from the 
duchy ; but his voice was not strong enough to overcome that 
of the general public, and the Chevalier de Magny especially 
stood our friend with his highness when the question was de- 
bated before him. The chevalier’s love of play had not deserted 
him. He was a regular frequenter of our bank, where he 
played for some time with pretty good luck ; and where, when 
he began to lose, he paid with a regularity surprising to all 
those who knew the smallness of his means and the splendor of 
his appearance. 

Her highness the Princess Olivia was also very fond of play. 
On half-a-dozen occasions when we held a bank at court, I 
could see her passion for the game. I could see — that is, my 
cool-headed old uncle could see — much more. There was an 
intelligence between Monsieur de Magny and this illustrious 
lady. “ If her highness be not in love with the little French- 
man,” my uncle said to me one night after play, “ may I lose 
the sight of my last eye ! ” 

“ And what then, sir?” said I. 

“ What then ? ” said my uncle, looking me hard in the face. 
“ Are you so green as not to know what then ? Your fortune 
is to be made, if you choose to back it now ; and we may have 
back the Barry estates in two years, my boy.” 

“ How is that ? ” asked I, still at a loss. 

My uncle dryly said, “ Get Magny to play ; never mind his 
paving: take his notes of hand. The more he owes the better; 
but, above all, make him play.” 

“He can’t pay a shilling,” answered T. “The Jews will 
not discount his notes at cent, per cent." 


BARRY LYNDOX, ESQ, 


129 


“ So much tne better. You shall see we will make use of 
them,” answered the old gentleman. And I must confess that 
the plan he laid was a gallant, clever, and fair one. 

I was to make Magny play ; in this there was no great diffi- 
culty. We had an intimacy together, for he was a good sports- 
man as well as myself, and we came to have a pretty consider- 
able friendship for one another : if he saw a dice box it was 
impossible to prevent him from handling it ; but he took to it 
as natural as a child does to sweetmeats. 

At first he won of me ; then he began to lose ; then I played 
him money against some jewels that he brought: family trink- 
ets, he said and indeed of considerable value. He begged me, 
however, not to dispose of them in the duchy, and I gave and 
kept my word to him to this effect. From jewels he got to 
playing upon promissory notes ; and as they would not allow 
him to play at the court tables and in public upon credit, he 
was very glad to have an opportunity of indulging his favorite 
passion in private. I have had him for hours at my pavilion 
(which I had fitted up in the Eastern manner, very splendid) 
rattling the dice till it became time to go to his service at court, 
and we would spend day after day in this manner. Hebiought* 
me more jewels, — a pearl necklace, an antique emerald breast 
ornament, and other trinkets, as a set-off against these losses : 
for I need not say that I should not have played with him all 
this time had he been winning ; but, after about a week, the 
luck set in against him, and he became my debtor in a prodi- 
gious sum. I do not care to mention the extent of it ; it was 
such as I never thought the young man could pay. 

Why, then, did I play for it ? Why waste days in private 
play with a mere bankrupt, when business seemingly much 
more profitable was to be done elsewhere ? My reason I boldly 
confess. I wanted to win from Monsieur de Magny, not his 
money, but his intended wife, the Countess Ida. Who can say 
that I had not a right to use any stratagem in this matter of 
love ? Or, why say love ? I wanted the wealth of the lady : I 
loved her quite as much as Magny did ; I loved her quite as 
much as yonder blushing virgin of seventeen does who marries 
an old lord of seventy. I followed the practice of the "world in 
this ; having resolved that marriage should achieve my fortune. 

I used to make Magny, after his losses, give me a friendly 
letter of acknowledgment to some such effect as this, — 

“ My dear Monsieur de Balibart, — I acknowledge to have lost to 
you this day at lansquenet [or picquet, or hazard, as the case may be : I 
was master of him at any game that is played] the sum of three hundred 

9 


THE MEMOIRS OE 


I 3° 

ducats, and shall hold it as a great kindness on your part if you will allow 
the debt to stand over until a future day, when you shall receive payment 
from your very grateful humble servant.” 

With the jewels he brought me I also took the precaution 
(but this was my uncle’s idea, and a very good one) to have a 
sort of invoice, and a letter begging me to receive the trinkets 
as so much part payment of a sum of money he owed me. 

When I had put him in such a position as I deemed favor- 
able to my intentions, I spoke to him candidly, and without 
any reserve, as one man of the world should speak to another. 
“ L will not, my dear fellow,” said I, “pay you so bad a compli 
ment as to suppose that you expect we are to go on playing at 
this rate much longer, and that there is any satisfaction to me 
in possessing more or less sheets of paper bearing your signa- 
ture, and a series of notes of hand which I know you never can 
pay. Don’t look fierce or angry, for you know Redmond Barry 
is your master at the sword : besides, I would not be such a 
fool as to fight a man who owes me so much money ; but hear 
calmly what I have to propose. 

“ You have been very confidential to me during our intimacy 
4 of the last month ; and I know all your personal affairs com- 
pletely. You have given your word of honor to your grand- 
father never to play upon parole, and you know how you have 
kept it, and that he will disinherit you if he hears the truth. 
Nay, suppose he dies to-morrow, his estate is not sufficient to 
pay the sum in which you are indebted to me ; and, were you to 
yield me up all, you would be a beggar, and a bankrupt too. 

“Her highness the Princess Olivia denies you nothing. I 
shall not ask why ; but give me leave to say, I was aware of the 
fact when we began to play together.” 

“Will you be made baron — chamberlain, with the grand 
cordon of the order?” gasped the poor fellow. “The princess 
can do anything with the duke.” 

“I shall have no objection,” said I, “to the yellow, ribbon 
and the gold key ; though a gentleman of the house of Bally- 
barry cares little for the titles of the German nobility. But this 
is not what I want. My good chevalier, you have hid no secrets 
from me. You have told me with what difficulty you have 
induced the Princess Olivia to consent to the project of your 
union with the Grafinn Ida, whom you don’t love. I know 
whom you love very well.” 

“ Monsieur de Balibari ! ” said the discomfited chevalier ; he 
could get out no more. The truth began to dawn upon him. 

“You begin to understand,” continued I. “ Her highness 


BARRY L YNDON, ESQ. 


13 * 

the Princess ” (1 said this in a sarcastic way) “ will not be very 
angry, believe me, if you break oft* your connection with the 
stupid countess. I am no more an admirer of that lady than 
you are ; but I want her estate. I played you for that estate, 
and have won it ; and I will give you your bills and five thou- 
sand ducats on the day I am married to it.” 

“ The day / am married to the countess,” answered th6 
chevalier, thinking to have me, “ I will be able to raise money 
to pay your claim ten times over ” (this was true, for the count- 
ess’s property may have been valued at near half a million of 
our money) ; “ and then I will discharge my obligations to you. 
Meanwhile, if you annoy me by threats, or insult me again as 
you have done, I will use that influence, which, as you say, f 
possess, and have you turned out of the duchy, as you were out 
of the Netherlands last year.” 

I rang the bell quite quietly. “Zamor,” said I to a tall 
negro fellow habited like a Turk, that used to wait upon me, 
“ when you hear the bell ring a second time, you will take this 
packet to the Marshal of the Court, this to his Excellency the 
General de Magny, and this you will place in the hands of one 
of the equerries of: his highness the hereditary prince. Wait in 
the anteroom, and do not go with the parcels until I ring 
again.” 

The black fellow having retired, I turned to Monsieur de 
Magny and said, “ Chevalier, the first packet contains a letter 
from you to me, declaring your solvency, and solemnly promis- 
ing payment of the sums you owe me ; it is accompanied by a 
document from myself (for I expected some resistance on your 
part), stating that my honor has been called in question, and 
begging that the paper may be laid before your august master, 
his highness. The second packet is for your grandfather, 
inclosing the letter from you in which you state yourself to be 
his heir, and begging for a confirmation of the fact. The last 
parcel, for his highness the hereditary duke,” added I, looking 
most sternly, “ contains the Gustavus Adolphus emerald, which 
he gave to his princess, and which you pledged to me as a 
family jewel of your own. Your influence with her highness 
must be great indeed,” I concluded, “ when you could extort 
from her such a jewel as that, and when you could make her, 
in order to pay your play-debts, give up a secret upon which 
both your heads depend.” 

“ Villain ! ” said the Frenchman, quite aghast with fury and 
terror, “ would you implicate the princess?” 

“ Monsieur de Magny,” I answered, with a sneer, “no: I 


TIIE MEMOIRS OF 


* 3 2 

will say yon stoic the jewel.’* It was my belief he did, and that 
the unhappy and infatuated princess was never privy to the theft 
until long after it had been committed. How we came to know 
the history of the emerald is simple enough. As we wanted 
money (for my occupation with Magny caused ou-r bank to be 
much neglected), my uncle had carried Magny’s trinkets to 
Mannheim to pawn. The Jew who lent upon them knew the 
history of the stone in question ; and when he asked how her 
highness came to part with it, my uncle very cleverly took up 
the story where he found it, said that the princess was very fond 
of play, that it was not always convenient to her to pay, and 
hence the emerald had come into our hands. He brought it 

wisely back with him to S ; and, as regards the other jewels 

which the chevalier pawned to 11s, they were of no particular 
mark : no inquiries have ever been made about them to this day ; 
and I did not only not know then that they came from her 
highness, but have only my conjectures upon the matter now r . 

The unfortunate young gentleman must have had a cow 
ardly spirit, when I charged him with the theft, not to make 
use of my two pistols that were lying by chance before him, 
and to send out of the world his accuser and his own ruined 
self. With such imprudence and miserable recklessness on 
his part and that of the unhappy lady who had forgotten her- 
self for this poor villain, he must have known that discovery 
was inevitable. But it was written that this dreadful des- 
tiny should be accomplished : instead of ending like a man, 
he now cowed before me quite spirit-broken, and, flinging 
himself down on the sofa, burst into tears, calling wildly <upon 
all the saints to help him ; as if they could be interested in 
the fate of such a wretch as him ! 

I saw that I had nothing to fear from him ; and, calling back 
Zamor, my black, said I would myself carry the parcels, which 
I returned to my escritoire';, and, my point being thus gained, 
1 acted, as I always do, generously towards him. I said that, 
for security’s sake, I should send the emerald out of the 
country, but that I pledged my honor to restore it to the 
duchess, without any pecuniary consideration, on the day when 
she should procure the sovereign’s consent to my union with 
the Countess Ida. 

This will explain pretty clearly, I flatter myself, the game 
I was playing ; and, though some rigid moralist may object to 
i s propriety, I say that anything is fair in love, and that men 
so poor as myself can’t afford to be squeamish about their 
means of n 'ettin< on in life. The vreat and rich are welcomed, 


BARR Y L YNDOAT, ESQ. 


*33 


smiling, up the grand staircase of the world : the poor but 
aspiring must clamber up the wall, or push and struggle up the 
back stair, or, pardi , crawl through any of the conduits of the 
house, never mind how foul and narrow, that lead to the top. 
The unambitious sluggard pretends that the eminence is not 
worth attaining, declines altogether the struggle, and calls him- 
self a philosopher. I say he is a poor-spirited coward. What 
is life good for but for honor ? and that is so indispensable, 
that we should attain it anyhow. 

The manner to be adopted forMagny’s retreat was proposed 
by myself, and was arranged so as to consult the feelings of 
delicacy of both parties. I made Magny take the Countess 
Ida aside, and say to her, “ Madam, though I have never de- 
clared myself your admirer, you and the count have had suffi- 
cient proof of my regard for you ; and my demand would, I know, 
have been backed by his highness, your august guardian. I 
know the duke’s gracious wish is, that my attentions should be 
received favorably ; but, as time has not appeared to alter your 
attachment elsewhere, and as I have too much spirit to force a 
lady of your name and rank to be united to me against your 
will, the best plan is, that I should make you, for form’s sake, 
a proposal ///^authorized by his highness : that you should 
reply, as I am sorry to think your heart dictates to you, in the 
negative : on which I also will formally withdraw from my 
pursuit of you, stating that, after a refusal, nothing, not even the 
duke’s desire, should induce me to persist in my suit.” 

The Countess Ida almost wept at hearing these words 
from Monsieur de Magny, and tears came into her eyes, he 
said, as she took his hand for the first time, and thanked him 
for the delicacy of the proposal. She little knew that the 
Frenchman was incapable of that sort of delicacy, and that the 
graceful manner in which he withdrew his addresses was of 
my invention. 

As soon as he withdrew, it became my business to step 
forward ; but cautiously and gently, so as not to alarm the lady, 
and yet firmly, so as to convince her of the hopelessness of 
her design of uniting herself with her shabby lover, the sub-lieu- 
tenant. The Princess Olivia was good enough to perform this 
necessary part of the plan in my favor, and solemnly to warn 
the Countess Ida, that though Monsieur de Magny had re- 
tired from paying his addresses, his highness her guardian 
would still marry her as he thought fit, and that she must for- 
ever forget her out-at-elbow adorer. In fact, I can’t conceive 


*34 


TlfE MEMOIRS OE 


how such a shabby rogue as that could ever have had the 
audacity to propose for her : his birth was certainly good ; but 
what other qualifications had he ? 

When the Chevalier de Magny withdrew, numbers of other 
suitors, you may be sure, presented themselves ; and amongst 
these your very humble servant, the cadet of Ballybarry. There 
was a carrousel , or tournament, held at this period, in imitation 
of the antique meetings of chivalry, in which the chevaliers 
tilted at each other, or at the ring ; and on this occasion I was 
habited in a splendid Roman dress (viz. : a silver helmet, allow- 
ing periwig, a cuirass of gilt leather richly embroidered, a light 
blue velvet mantle, and crimson morocco half boots) ; and in 
this habit I rode my bay horse Brian, carried off three rings, and 
won the prize over all the duke’s gentry, and the nobility of 
surrounding countries who had come to the show. A wreath of 
gilded laurel was to be the prize of the victor, and it was to be 
awarded by the lady he selected. So I rode up to the gallery 
where the Countess Ida was seated behind the hereditary 
princess, and, calling her name loudly, yet gracefully, begged to 
be allowed to be crowned by her, and thus proclaimed myself 
to the face of all Germany, as it were, her suitor. She turned 
very pale, and the princess red I observed : but the Countess 
Ida ended by crowning me : after which, putting spurs into my 
horse, I galloped round the ring, saluting his highness the duke 
at the opposite end, and performing the most wonderful exer- 
cises with my bay. 

My success did not, as you may imagine, increase my popu- 
larity with the young gentry. They called me adventurer, bully, 
dice-loader, impostor, and a hundred pretty names ; but I had 
a way of silencing these gentry. I took the Count de Schmet- 
terling, the richest and bravest of the young men who seemed 
to have a hankering for the Countess Ida, and publicly insulted 
him at the ridotto ; flinging my cards into his face. The next 
day I rode thirty-five miles into the territory of the Elector of 

B , and met Monsieur de Schmetterling, and passed my 

sword twice through his body ; then rode back with my second, 
the Chevalier de Magny, and presented myself at the duchess’s 
whist that evening. Magny was very unwilling to accompany 
me at first ; but I insisted upon his support, and that he should 
countenance my quarrel. Directly after paying my homage to 
her highness, 1 went up to the Countess Ida, and made her a 
marked and low obeisance, gazing at her steadily in the face 
until she grew crimson red ; and then staring round at every 
man who formed her circle, until, ma foi , I stared them all 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


T 35 

away. I instructed Magny to say, everywhere, that the count- 
ess was madly in love with me ; which commission, along with 
many others of mine, the poor devil was obliged to perform. 
He made rather a sotte figure , as the French say, acting pioneer 
for me, praising me everywhere, accompanying me always ! he 
who had been the pink of the mode until my arrival ; he who 
thought his pedigree of beggarly Barons of Magny was superior 
to the race of the great Irish kings from which I descended ; 
who had sneered at me a hundred times as a spadassin, a 
deserter, and had called me a vulgar Irish upstart. Now I had 
my revenge of the gentleman, and took it too. 

I used to call him, in the choicest societies, by his Christian 
name of Maxime. I would say, “ Bon jour, Maxime ; comment 
vas tu ? ” in the princess’s hearing, and could see him bite his 
lips for fury and vexation. But I had him under iny thumb, 
and her highness too — I, poor private of Biilow’s regiment. 
And this is a proof of what genius and perseverance can do, and 
should act as a warning to great people never to have secrets — if 
th y can help it. 

I knew the princess hated me ; but what did I care ? She 
knew I knew all : and indeed, I believe, so strong was her prej- 
udice against me, that she thought I was an indelicate villain, 
capable of betraying a lady, which I would scorn to do; so that 
she trembled before me as a child before its schoolmaster. 
She would, in her woman’s way, too, make all sorts of jokes 
and sneers at me on reception days ; ask about my palace in 
Ireland, and the kings my ancestors, and whether, when I was 
a private in Bulow’s foot, my royal relatives had interposed to 
rescue me, and whether the cane was smartly administered there, 
— anything to mortify me. But heaven bless you ! I can make 
allowances for people, and used to laugh in her face. Whilst 
her jibes and jeers were continuing, it was my pleasure to look at 
poor Magny and see how he bore them. The poor devil was 
trembling lest I should break out under the princess’s sarcasm 
and tell all ; but my revenge was, when the princess attacked 
me, to say something bitter to him , — to pass it on, as boys do 
at school. And that was the thing which used to make her high- 
ness feel. She would wince just as much when I attacked 
Magny as if I had been saying anything rude to herself. And, 
though she hated me, she used to beg my pardon in private ; 
and though her pride would often get the better of her, yet her 
prudence obliged this magnificent princess to humble herself to 
the poor penniless Irish boy. 

As soon as Magny had formally withdrawn from the Count 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


J36 

ess Ida, the princess took the young lady into favor again, and 
pretended to be very fond of her. To do them justice, I don’t 
know which of the two disliked me most — the princess, who* 
was all eagerness, and fire, and coquetry, or the countess, who 
was all state and splendor. The latter, especially, pretended 
to be disgusted by me ; and yet, after all, 1 have pleased her 
betters ; was once one of the handsomest men in Europe, and 
would defy any heyduc of the court to measure a chest or a 
leg with me : but I did not care for any of her silly prejudices, 
and determined to win her and wear her in spite of herself. 
Was it on account of her personal charms or qualities ? No. 
She was quite white, thin, short-sighted, tall, and awkward, and 
ray taste is quite the contrary ; and as for her mind, no wonder 
that a poor creature who had a hankering after a wretched, 
ragged ensign could never appreciate me. It was her estate I 
made love to ; as for herself, it would be a reflection on my 
taste as a man of fashion to own that I liked her. 


CHAPTER XI. 

IN WHICH THE LUCK GOES AGAINST BARRY. 

XI v hopes of obtaining the hand of one of the richest heir- 
esses in Germany were now, as far as all human probability 
went, and as far as my own merits and prudence could secure 
fby fortune, pretty certain of completion. 1 was admitted 
whenever I presented myself at the princess’s apartments, and 
had as frequent opportunities as I desired of seeing the Count- 
ess Ida there. I cannot say that she received me with any 
particular favor ; the silly young creature’s affections were, as I 
have said, engaged ignobly elsewhere ; and, however captiva- 
ting my own person and manners may have been, it was not to 
be expected that she should all of a sudden forget her lover for 
the sake of the young Irish gentleman who was paying his ad- 
dresses to her. But such little rebuffs as I got were far from 
discouraging me. I had very powerful friends, who were to 
aid me in my undertaking; and knew that, sooner or later, the 
victory must be mine. In fact, I only waited my time to press 
m# suit. Who could tell the dreadful stroke of fortune which 


BARR V L YNDOK ESQ. 


x 37 


4\ r as impending over my illustrious protectress, and which was 
to involve me partially in her ruin ? 

All things seemed for a while quite prosperous to my 
wishes; and, in spite of the Countess Ida’s disinclination, it 
was much easier to bring her to her senses than, perhaps, may 
be supposed in a silly, constitutional country like England, 
where people are brought up with those wholesome sentiments 
of obedience to royalty which were customary in Europe at the 
time when I was a young man. 

I have stated how, through Magny, I had the princess, as it 
were, at my feet. Her highness had only to press the match 
upon the old duke, over whom her influence was unbounded, 
and to secure the good-will of the Countess of Liliengarten 
(which was the romantic title of his highness’s morganatic 
spouse), and the easy old man would give an order for the 
marriage ; which his ward would perforce obey. Madame de 
Liliengarten was, too, from her position, extremely anxious to 
oblige the Princess Olivia ; who might be called upon any day 
to occupy the throne. The old duke was tottering, apoplectic, 
and exceedingly fond of good living. When he was gone, his 
relict would find the patronage of the Duchess Olivia most ne- 
cessary to her. Hence there_ was a close mutual understand- 
ing between the two ladies ; and the world said that the hered- 
itary princess was already indebted to the favorite for help on 
various occasions. Pier highness had obtained, through the 
•countess, several large grants of money for the payment of her 
multifarious debts ; and she was now good enough to exert her 
gracious influence over Madame de Liliengarten in order to 
obtain for me the object so near my heart. It is not to be 
supposed that my end was to be obtained without continual un- 
willingness and refusals on Magny’s part ; but I pushed my 
point resolutely, and had means in my hands of overcoming the 
stubbornness of that feeble young gentleman. Also, I may 
say, without vanity, that if the high and mighty princess de- 
tested me, the countess (though she was of extremely low 
origin, it is said,) had better taste and admired me. She often 
die! us the honor to go partners with us in one of our faro- 
banks, and declared that I was the handsomest man in the 
duchy. All I was required to preve was my nobility, and I got 
at Vienna such a pedigree as would satisfy the most greedy in 
that way. In fact, what had a man descended from the Barrys 
and the Bradys to fear before any von in Germany ? By way 
of making assurances doubly sure, I promised Madame de 
Liliengarten ten thousand louis on the day of my marriage, and 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


138 

she knew that as a play-man I had never failed in my word : 
and I vow, that had I paid fifty per cent, for it, I would have 
got the money. 

Thus by my talents, honesty, and acuteness, 1 had, con- 
sidering I was a poor patronless outcast, raised for myself very 
powerful protectors. Even his highness the Duke Victor was 
favorably inclined to me ; for, his favorite charger falling ill of 
the staggers, I gave him a ball such as my uncle Brady used 
to administer, and cured the horse; after which his highness 
was pleased to notice me frequently. He invited me to his 
hunting and shooting parties, where I showed myself to be a 
good sportsman ; and once or twice he condescended to talk 
to me about my prospects in life, lamenting that I had taken 
to gambling, and that I had not adopted a more regular means of 
advancement. “ Sir,” said I, “ if you will allow me to speak 
frankly to your highness, play with me is only a means to an 
end. Where should I have been without it ? A private still in 
King Frederick's grenadiers. I come of a race which gave 
princes to my country ; but persecutions have deprived them 
of their vast possessions. My uncle’s adherence to his ancient 
faith drove him from our country. T too resolved to seek ad- 
vancement in the military service ; but the insolence and ill 
treatment which I received at the hands of the English were 
not bearable by a high-born gentleman, and I fled their service. 
It was only to fall into another bondage to all appearance still 
more hopeless ; when my good star sent a preserver to me in 
my uncle, and my spirit and gallantry enabled me to take ad- 
vantage of the means of escape afforded me. Since then we 
have lived, I do not disguise it, by play ; but who can say I 
have done him a wrong? Yet, if I could find myself in an 
honorable post, and with an assured maintenance, I would 
never, except for amusement, such as every gentleman must 
have, touch a card again. 1 beseech your highness to*inquire 
of your resident at Berlin if I did not on every occasion act as 
a gallant soldier. I feel that I have talents of a higher order, 
and should be proud to have occasion to exert them ; if, as I 
do not doubt, my fortune shall bring them into play.” 

The candor of this statement struck his highness greatly, 
and impressed him in my favor, and he was pleased to say that 
he believed me, and would be glad to stand my friend. 

Having thus the two dukes, the duchess, and the reigning 
favorite enlisted on my side, the chances certainly were that I 
should carry off the great prize ; and I ought, according to all 
common calculations, to have been a prince of the empire at 


BARRY L YNDON, ESQ . 


T 39 


this present writing, but that my ill luck pursued me in a matter 
in which I was not the least to blame, — the unhappy duchess’s 
attachment to the weak, silly, cowardly Frenchman. The dis- 
play of this love was painful to witness, as its end was frightful 
to think of. The princess made no disguise of it. If Magny 
spoke a word to a lady of her household, she would be jealous, 
and attack with all the fury of her tongue the unlucky of- 
fender. She would send him a half-dozen of notes in the day : 
at his arrival to join her circle of the courts which she held, she 
would brighten up, so that all might perceive. It was a wonder 
that her husband had not long ere this been made aware of her 
faithlessness ; but the Prince Victor was himself of so high and 
stern a nature that he could not believe in her stooping so far 
from her rank as to forget her virtue : and I have heard say, that 
when hints were given to him of the evident partiality which 
the princess showed for the equerry, his answer was a stern 
command never more to be troubled on the subject. “The 
princess is light-minded,” he said ; “ she was brought up at a 
frivolous court ; but her folly goes not beyond coquetry : crime 
is impossible ; she has her birth, and my name, and her children, 
to defend her.” And he would ride off to his military in- 
spections and be absent for weeks, or retire to his suite of 
apartments, and remain closeted there whole days ; only appear- 
ing to make a bow at her highness’s levee, or to give her his 
hand at the court galas, where ceremony required that he 
should appear. He was a man of vulgar tastes, and I have 
seen him in the private garden, with his great ungainly figure, 
running races, or playing at ball with his little son and daughter, 
whom he would find a dozen pretexts daily for visiting. The 
serene children were brought to their mother every morning at 
her toilette ; but she received them very indifferently : except 
on one occasion, when the young Duke Ludwig got his little 
uniform as colonel of hussars, being presented with a regiment 
by his godfather, the Emperor Leopold. Then, for a day or 
two, the Duchess Olivia was charmed with the little boy ; but 
she grew tired of him speedily, as a child does of a toy. I re- 
member one day, in the morning circle, some of the princess’s 
rouge came off on the arm of her son’s little white military 
jacket ; on which she slapped the poor child’s face, and sent 
him sobbing away. Oh, the woes that have been worked by 
women in this world ! the misery into which men have lightly 
stepped with smiling. faces ; often not even with the excuse of 
passion, but from mere foppery, vanity, and bravado ! Men 
play with these dreadful two-edged tools, as if no harm could 


140 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


come to them. I, who have seen more of life than most men, 
if I had a son, would go on my knees to him and beg him to 
avoid woman, who is worse than poison. Once intrigue, and 
your whole life is endangered : you never know when the evil 
may fall upon you ; and the woe of whole families, and the ruin 
of innocent people perfectly dear to you, may be caused by a 
moment of your folly. 

When I saw how entirely lost the unlucky Monsieur de 
Magny seemed to be, in spite of all the claims I had against 
him, I urged him to fly. He had rooms in the palace, in the 
garrets over the princess’s quarters (the building was a huge 
one, and accommodated almost a city of noble retainers of the 
family) ; but the infatuated young fool would not budge, al- 
though he had not even the excuse of love for staying. “ How 
she squints,” he would say of the princess, “ and how crooked 
she is ! She thinks no one can perceive her deformity. She 
writes me verses out of Gresset or Crebillon, and fancies I be- 
lieve them to be original. Bah ! they are no more her own than 
her hair is ! ” It was in this way that the wretched lad was 
dancing over the ruin that was yawning under him. I do be- 
lieve that his chief pleasure in making love to the princess was, 
that he might write about his victories to his friends of the 
petites maisons at Paris, where he longed to be considered as a 
wit and a vainqueur de dames. 

Seeing the young man’s recklessness, and the danger of his 
position, 1 became very anxious that my little scheme should be 
brought to a satisfactory end, and pressed him warmly on the 
matter. 

My solicitations with him were, I need not say, from the 
nature of the connection between us, generally pretty successful ; 
and, in fact, the poor fellow could refuse me nothing : as I used 
often laughingly to say to him, very little to his liking. But I 
used more than threats, or the legitimate influence I had over 
kirn. I used delicacy and generosity; as a proof of which, [ 
may mention that I promised to give, back to the princess the 
family emerald, which I mentioned in the last chapter that 1 
had won from her unprincipled admirer at play.. 

This was done by my uncle’s consent, and was one of the 
usual acts of prudence and foresight which distinguish that 
clever man. “ Press the matter now, Redmond my boy,” he 
would urge. “ This affair between her highness and Magny 
must end ill for both of them, and that soon ; and where will 
be your chance to win the countess then ? Now is your time ! 
win her and wear her before the month is over, and we will 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


141 

give up the punting business, and go live like noblemen at our 
castle in Swabia. Get rid of that emerald, too, 7 ’ he added : 

should an accident happen, it will be an ugly deposit found 
in our hand.” This it was that made me agree to forego the 
possession of the trinket ; which, I must confess, I was loth to 
part with. It was lucky for us both that I did : as you shall 
presently hear. 

Meanwhile, then, I urged Magny : I myself spoke strongly 
to the Countess of Liliengarten, who promised formally to back 
my claim with his highness the reigning duke ; and Monsieur 
de Magny was instructed to induce the Princess Olivia to make 
a similar application to the old sovereign in my behalf. It was 
done. The two ladies urged the prince ; his highness (at a 
supper of oysters and champagne) was brought to consent, and 
her highness the hereditary princess did me the honor of 
notifying personally to the Countess Ida that it was the prince’s 
will that she should marry the young Irish nobleman, the Che- 
valier Redmond de Balibari. The notification was made in my 
presence ; and though the young countess said “ Never ! ” and 
fell down in a swoon at her lady’s feet^ I was, you may be sure, 
entirely unconcerned at this little display of mawkish sensibility, 
and felt, indeed, now that my prize was secure. 

That evening I gave the Chevalier de Magny the emerald, 
which he promised to restore to the princess ; and now the 
only difficulty in my way lay with the hereditary prince, of 
whom his father, his wife, and the favorite, were alike afraid. 
He might not be disposed to allow the richest heiress in his 
duchy to be carried off by a noble, though not a wealthy for- 
eigner. Time was necessary in order to break the matter to 
Prince Victor. The princess must find him at some moment 
of good humor. He had days of infatuation still, when he 
could refuse his wife nothing ; and our plan was to wait for one 
of these, or for any other chance which might occur. 

But it was destined that the princess should never see, her 
husband at her feet, as often as he had been. Fate was pre- 
paring a terrible ending to her follies, and my own hope. In 
spite of his solemn promises to me, Magny never restored the 
emerald to the Princess Olivia. 

He had heard, in casual intercourse with me, that my uncle 
and I had been beholden to Mr. Moses Lowe, the banker of Hei- 
delberg, who had given us a good price for our valuables ; and the 
infatuated young man took a pretext to go thither, and offered 
the jewel for pawn. Moses Lowe recognized the emerald at 
# once, gave Magny the sum the latter demanded, which the 


1.12 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


chevalier lost presently at play : never, you may be sure, ac- 
quainting us with the means by which he had made himself 
master of so much capital. We, for' our parts, supposed that 
he had been supplied by his usual banker, the princess : and 
many rouleaux of his gold-pieces found their way into our 
treasury, when at the court galas, at our own lodgings, or at the 
apartments of Madame de Liliengarten (who on these occasions 
did us the honor to go halves with us) we held our bank of 
faro. 

Thus Magny’s money was very soon gone. But though the 
Jew held his jewel, of thrice the value no doubt of the sums he 
had lent upon it, that was not all the profit which he intended 
to have from his unhappy creditor ; over whom he began 
speedily to exercise his authority. His Hebrew connections 

at X , money-brokers, bankers, horse-dealers, about the 

court there, must have told their Heidelberg brother what 
Magny’s relations with the princess were ; and the rascal de- 
termined to take advantage of these, and to press to the utmost 
both victims. My uncle and I were, meanwhile, swimming 
upon the high tide of fortune, prospering with our cards, and 
with the still greater matrimonial game which we were playing ; 
and we were quite unaware of the mine under our feet. 

Before a month was passed, the Jew began to pester Magny. 

He presented himself at X , and asked for further interest 

— hush-money ; otherwise he must sell the emerald. Magny 
got money for him ; the princess again befriended her das- 
tardly lover. The success of the first demand only rendered 
the second more exorbitant. I know not how much money 
was extorted and paid on this unlucky emerald : but it w r as 
the cause of the ruin of us all. 

One night we were keeping our table as usual at the Count- 
ess of Liliengarten ’s, and Magny being in cash somehow kept 
drawing out rouleau after rouleau, and playing with his common ill 
success. In the middle of the play a note was brought in to him, 
which he read, and turned very pale on perusing ; but the luck was 
against him, and looking up rather anxiously at the clock, he 
waited for a few more turns of the cards, when having, I sup- 
pose, lost his last rouleau, he got up with a wild oath that 
scared some of the polite company assembled, and left the 
room. A great trampling of horses was heard without ; but we 
were too much engaged with our business to heed the noise, 
and continued our play. 

Presently some one came into the play-room and said to 


BARRY L YNDON, ESQ. 


4 y 


the countess, “ Here is a strange story ! A Jew has been 
murdered in the Kaiserwald. Magny was arrested when he 
went out of the room.” All the party broke up on hearing this 
strange news, and we shut up our bank for the night. Magny 
had been sitting by me during the play (my uncle dealt and I 
paid and took the money), and, looking under the chair, there 
was a crumbled paper, which I took up and read. It was that 
which had been delivered to him. and ran thus : — 

“ If you have done it , take the orderly's horse who brings this. It is the 
best of my stable . There are a hundred louis in each holster , and the pistols 
are loaded. Either course lies open to you ; you know what I mean. In a 
quarter of an hour I shall know our fate — whether I am to be dishonored and 
survive you , whether you are fcuilty and a coward, or whether you are still 
worthy of the name of 

MR 

This was in the handwriting of the old General de Magny \ 
and my uncle and I, as we walked home at night, having made 
and divided with the Countess Liliengarten no inconsiderable 
profits that night, felt our triumphs greatly dashed by the pe- 
rusal of the letter. “ Has Magny,” we asked, “ robbed the 
Jew, or has his intrigue been discovered ? ” In either case, my 
claims on the Countess Ida were likely to meet with serious 
drawbacks ; and I began to feel that my “ great card ” was 
played and perhaps lost. 

Well, it was lost : though I say, to this day, it was well and 
gallantly played. After supper (which we never for fear of 
consequences took during play) I became so agitated in my 
mind as to what was occurring that I determined to sally out 
about midnight into the town, and inquire what was the real 
motive of Magny’s apprehension. A sentry was at the door, 
and signified to me that I and my uncle were under arrest. 

We were left ip our quarters for six weeks, so closely watched 
that escape was impossible had we desired it ; but, as innocent 
men, we had nothing to fear. Our course of life was open to 
all, and w r e desired and courted inquiry. Great and tragical 
events happened during those six weeks ; of which, though we 
heard the outline, as all Europe did, when we were released 
from our captivity, we were yet far from understanding all the 
particulars, which were not much known to me for many 
years after. Here they are, as they were told me by the lady, 
who of all the world perhaps was most likely to know them. 
But the narrative had best form the contents of another 
chapter. 


THE MEMOIRS Uf> 


144 


CHAPTER XII. 

CONTAINS THE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF THE PRINCESS OF X . 

More than twenty years after the events described in the 
past chapters, I was walking with my Lady Lyndon, in the 
Rotunda at Ranelagh. It was in the year 1790 ; the emigra- 
tion from France had already commenced, the old counts and 
marquises were thronging to our shores : not starving and 
miserable, as one saw them a few years afterwards, but un- 
molested as yet, and bringing with them some token of their 
national splendor. I was walking with Lady Lyndon, who, 
proverbially jealous and always anxious to annoy me, spied out 
a foreign lady who was evidently remarking me, and of course 
asked who was the hideous fat Dutchwoman who was leering at 
me so ? 1 knew her not in the least. I felt I had seen the 

lady’s face somewhere (it was now, as my wife said, enor- 
mously fat and bloated) ; but I did not recognize in the bearer of 
that face one who had been among the most beautiful women 
in Germany in her day. 

It was no other than Madame de Liliengarten, the mistress, 

or as some said the morganatic wife, of the old Duke of X , 

Duke Victor’s father. She had left X a few months after 

the elder Duke’s demise, had gone to Paris, as I heard, where 
some unprincipled adventurer had married her for her money ; 
but, however, had always retained her quasi-royal title, and 
pretended, amidst the great laughter of the Parisians who fre- 
quented her house, to the honors and ceremonial of a sovereign’s 
widow. She had a throne erected in her st^jte-room, and was 
styled by her servants and those who wished to pay court to 
her, or borrow money from her, “ Altesse.” Report said she 
drank rather copiously — certainly her face bore every mark of 
that habit, and had lost the rosy, frank, good-humored beauty 
which had charmed the sovereign who had ennobled her. 

Although she did not address me in the circle at Ranelagh, 
I was at this period as well known as the Prince of Wales, and 
she had no difficulty in finding my house in Berkeley Square ; 
whither a note was next morning despatched to me. “ An old 
friend of Monsieur de Balibari,” it stated (in extremely bad 
French), “ is anxious to see the Chevalier again, and to talk 


BARRY LYNDON, \ ESQ . 


T 4S 


over old happy times. Rosina de Liliengarten (can it be that 
Redmond Balibari has forgotten her ?) will be at her house in 
Leicester Fields all the morning, looking for one who would 
never have passed her by iive?ity years ago.” 

Rosina of Liliengarten it was, indeed — such a full-blown 
Rosina I have seldom seen. I found her in a decent first-floor 
in Leicester Fields (the poor soul fell much lower afterwards) 
drinking tea, which had somehow a very strong smell of brandy 
in it j and after salutations, which would be more tedious to 
recount than they were to perform, and after further straggling 
conversation, she gave me briefly the following narrative of the 

events in X , which I may well entitle the “ Princess’s 

Tragedy.” 

“ You remember Monsieur de Geldern, the Police Minister. 
He was of Dutch extraction, and, what is more, of a family of 
Dutch Jews. Although everybody was aware of this blot in his 
scutcheon, he was mortally angry if ever his origin was sus- 
pected ; and made up for his father’s errors by outrageous pro- 
fessions of religion, and the most austere practices of devotion. 
He visited church every morning, confessed once a week, and 
hated Jews and Protestants as much as an inquisitor could do. 
He never lost an opportunity of proving his sincerity, by per- 
secuting one or the other whenever occasion fell in his way. 

“ He hated the princess mortally ; for her highness in some 
whim had insulted him with his origin, caused pork to be removed 
from before him at table, or injured him in some such silly way ; 
and he had a violent animosity to the old Baron de Magny, 
both in his capacity of Protestant, and because the latter in 
some haughty mood had publicly turned his back upon him as 
a sharper and a spy. Perpetual quarrels were taking place 
between them in council ; where it was only the presence of his 
august masters that restrained the baron from publicly and 
frequently expressing the contempt which he felt for the officer 
of police. 

“ Thus Geldern had hatred as one reason for ruining the 
princess, and it is my belief he had a stronger motive still — 
interest. You remember whom the duke married, after the 

death of his first wife ? — a princess of the house of F >. 

Geldern built his fine palace two years after, and, as I feel con- 
vinced, with the money which was paid to him by the F • 

family for forwarding the match. 

“ To go to Prince Victor, and report to his highness a case 
which everybody knew, was not by any means Geldern’s desire* 

IO 


146 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


He knew the man would be ruined for ever in the prince’s 
estimation who carried him intelligence so disastrous. His aim, 
therefore, was, to leave the matter to explain itself to his high- 
ness; and, when the time was ripe, he cast about for a means 
of carrying his point. He had spies in the houses of the elder 
and younger Magny ; but this you know, of course, from your 
experience of Continental customs. We had all spies over each 
other. Your black (Zamour, I think, was his name) used to 
give me reports every morning ; and I used to entertain the dear 
old duke with stories of you and your uncle practising picquet 
and dice in the morning, and with your quarrels and intrigues. 

We levied similar contributions on everybody in X , to 

amuse the dear old man. Monsieur de Magny’s valet used to 
report both to me and Monsieur de Geldern. 

“ I knew of the fact of the emerald being in pawn ; and it 
was out of my exchequer that the poor princess drew the funds 
which were spent upon the odious Lowe, and the still more 
worthless young chevalier. How the princess could trust the 
latter as she persisted in doing, is beyond my comprehension ; 
but there is no infatuation like that of a woman in love : and 
you will remark, my dear Monsieur de Balibari, that our sex 
generally fix upon a bad man.” 

“ Not always, madam,” I interposed ; “ your humble servant 
has created many such attachments.” 

“ I do not see that that affects the truth of the proposition,” 
said the old lady dryly, and continued her narrative. “ The 
Jew who held the emerald had had many dealings with the 
princess, and at last was offered a bribe of such magnitude, 
that he determined to give up the pledge. He committed the 
inconceivable imprudence of bringing the emerald with him to 

X , and waited on Magny, who was provided by the princess 

with the money to redeem the pledge, and was actually ready 
to pay it. 

“ Their interview took place in Magny’s own apartments, 
when his valet overheard every word of their conversation. The 
young man, who was always utterly careless of money when it 
was in his possession, was so easy in offering it, that Lowe rose 
in his demands, and had the conscience to ask double the sum 
for which he had previously stipulated. 

“ At this the chevalier lost all patience, fell on the wretch, 
and was for killing him , when the opportune valet rushed in 
and saved him. The man had heard every word of the con- 
versation between the disputants, and the Jew ran flying with 
terror into his arms , and Magny, a quick and passionate, but 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


*47 

not a violent man, bade the servant lead the villain down stairs, 
and thought no more of him. 

“ Perhaps he was not sorry to be rid of him, and to have in 
his possession a large sum of money, four thousand ducats, with 
which he could tempt fortune once more ; as you know he did 
at your table that night.” 

“ Your ladyship went halves, madam,” said I ; “ and you 
know how little I was the better for my winnings.” 

“ The man conducted the trembling Israelite out of the 
palace, and no sooner had seen him lodged at the house of one 
of his brethren, where he was accustomed to put up than he 
went away to the office of his Excellency the Minister of Police, 
and narrated every word of the conversation which had taken 
place between the Jew and his master. 

44 Geldern expressed the greatest satisfaction at his spy’s 
prudence and fidelity. He gave him a purse of twenty ducats, 
and promised to provide for him handsomely : as great men 
do sometimes promise to reward their instruments ; but you, 
Monsieur de Balibari, know how seldom those promises are 
kept. 4 Now, go and find out,’ said Monsieur de Geldern, 4 at 
what time the Israelite proposes to return home again, or 
whether he will repent and take the money.’ The man went 
on this errand. Meanwhile, to make matters sure, Geldern 
arranged a play-party at my house, inviting you thither with 
your bank, as you may remember ; and finding means, at the 
same time, to let Maxime de Magny know that there was to be 
faro at Madame de Liliengarten’s. It was an invitation the 
poor fellow never neglected.” 

I remembered the facts, and listened on, amazed at the arti- 
fice of the infernal Minister of Police. 

44 The spy came back from his message to Lowe, and stated 
that he had made inquiries among the servants of the house 
where the Heidelberg banker lodged, and that it was the latter’s 
intention, to leave X that afternoon. He travelled by him- 

self, riding an old horse, exceedingly humbly attired, after the 
manner of his people. 

“ 4 Johann,’ said the Minister, clapping the pleased spy upon 
the shoulder, 4 1 am more and more pleased with you. I have 
been thinking, since you left me, of your intelligence, and the 
faithful manner in which you have served me ; and shall soon 
find an occasion to place you according to your merits. Which 
way does this Israelitish scoundrel take ? ’ 

4 4 4 He goes to R to-night.’ 

44 4 And must pass by the Kaiserwald. Are you a man of 
courage, Johann Kerner ? ’ 


148 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


“ 4 Will your Excellency try me ? ’ said the man, his eyes 
glittering : ‘ I served through the Seven Years’ War, and was 
never known to fail there.’ 

“ ‘ Now, listen. The emerald must be taken from that Jew: 
in the very keeping it the scoundrel has committed high treason. 
To the man who brings me that emerald I swear I will give 
five hundred louis. You understand why it is necessary that 
it should be restored to her highness. I need say no more.’ 

“ 4 You shall have it to-night, sir,’ said the map. 4 Of course 
your Excellency will hold me harmless in case of accident.’ 

“ 4 Psha ! ’ answered the Minister ; ‘ I will pay you half the 
money beforehand ; such is my confidence in you. Accident’s 
impossible, if you take your measures properly. There are 
four leagues of wood , the Jew rides slowly. It will be night 
before he can reach, let us say, the old Powder-Mill in the wood. 
What’s to prevent you from putting a rope across the road, and 
dealing with him there ? Be back with me this evening at 
supper. If you meet any of the patrol, say “ foxes are loose,” 
— that’s the word for to-night. They will let you pass them 
without questions.’ 

“ The man went off quite charmed with his commission ; 
and when Magny was losing his money at our faro-table, his 
servant waylaid the Jew at the spot named the Powder-Mill, in 
the Kaiserwald. The Jew’s horse stumbled over the rope which 
had been placed across the road , and, as the rider fell groaning 
to the ground, Johann Kerner rushed out on him, masked, and 
pistol in hand, and demanded his money. He had no wish to 
kill the Jew, I believe, unless his resistance should render ex- 
treme measures necessary. 

“Nor did he commit any such murder ; for, as the yelling. 
Jew roared for mercy, and his assailant menaced him with a 
pistol, a squad of patrol came up, and laid hold of the robber 
and the wounded man 

“ Kerner swore an oath. 4 You have come too soon,’ said 
he to the sergeant of the police. 4 Foxes are loose' 4 Some are 
caught,’ said the sergeant, quite unconcerned; and bound 
the fellow’s hands with the rope which he had stretched across 
the road to entrap the Jew. He was placed behind a police- 
man on a horse ; Lowe was similarly accommodated, and the 
party thus came back into the town as the night fell. 

“ They were taken forthwith to the police quarter ; and, as 
the chief happened to be there, they were examined by his Ex- 
cellency in person. Both were rigorously searched ; the Jew’s 
papers and cases taken from him : the jewel was found in a 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


149 


private pocket. As for the spy, the Minister, looking at him an- 
grily, said, 4 Why, this is the servant of the Chevalier de Magny* 
one of her highness’s equerries ! ’ and, without hearing a word 
in exculpation from the poor frightened wretch, ordered him 
into close confinement. 

“ Calling for his horse, he then rode to the prince’s apart- 
ments at the palace, and asked for an instant audience. When 
admitted, he produced the emerald. ‘ This jewel,’ said he, ‘ has 
been found on the person of a Heidelberg Jew, who has been 
here repeatedly of late, and has had many dealings with her 
highness’s equerry, the Chevalier de Magny. This afternoon 
the chevalier’s servant came from his master’s lodgings, ac- 
companied by the Hebrew ; was heard to make inquiries as to 
the route the man intended to take on his way homewards ; 
followed him, or preceded him rather, and was found in the act 
of rifling his victim by my police in the Kaiserwald. The man 
will confess nothing ; but, on being searched, a large sum in 
gold was found on his person ; and though it is with the ut- 
most pain that I can bring myself to entertain such an opinion, 
and to implicate a gentleman of the character and name of 
Monsieur de Magny, I do submit that our duty is to have the 
chevalier examined relative to the affair. As Monsieur de 
Magny is in her highness’s private service, and in her con- 
fidence, I have heard, I would not venture to apprehend him 
without your highness’s permission.’ 

“ The prince’s master of the horse, a friend of the old Baron 
de Magny, who was present at the interview, no sooner heard 
the strange intelligence, than he hastened away to the old 
general with the dreadful news of his grandson’s supposed 
criftie. Perhaps his highness himself was not unwilling that 
his old friend and tutor in arms should have the chance of 
saving his family from disgrace ; at all events, Monsieur de 
Hengst, the Master of the Horse, was permitted to go off to 
the baron undisturbed, and break to him the intelligence of the 
accusation pending over the unfortunate chevalier. 

“ It is possible that he expected some such dreadful ca- 
tastrophe, for, after hearing Hengst’s narrative (as the latter 
afterwards told me), he only said, 4 Heaven’s will be done ! ’ 
for some time refused to stir a step in the matter, and then only 
by the solicitation of his friend was induced to write the letter 
which Maxime de Magny received at our plav-table. 

44 Whilst he was there, squandering the princess’s money, a 
police visit was paid to his apartments, and. a hundred proofs, 
not of his guilt with respect to the robbery, but of his guilty 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


* 5 ° 

connection with the princess, were discovered there, — tokens of 
her giving, passionate letters from her, copies of his own cor- 
respondence to his young friends at Paris, — all of which the 
Police Minister perused, and carefully put together under 
seal for his highness, Prince Victor. I have no doubt he pe- 
rused them, for, on delivering them to the hereditary prince, 
Geldern said that, in obedience to his highness's orders , he- had 
collected the chevalier’s papers; but he need not say that, on 
his honor, he (Geldern) himself had never examined the docu- 
ments. His difference with Messieurs de Magny was known ; he 
begged his highness to employ any other official person in the 
judgment of the accusation brought against the young chevalier. 

“ All these things were going on while the chevalier was at 
play. A run of luck — you had great luck in those days, Mon- 
sieur de Balibari — was against him. He stayed and lost his 4,000 
ducats. He received his uncle’s note, and, such was the in- 
fatuation of the wretched gambler, that, on receipt of it, he went 
down to the courtyard, where the horse was in waiting, ab- 
solutely took the money which the poor old gentleman had 
placed in the saddle-holsters, brought it up stairs, played it, and 
lost it ; and when he issued from the room to fly, it was too 
late : he was placed in arrest at the bottom of my staircase, as 
you were upon entering your own home. 

“ Even when he came in under the charge of the soldiery 
sent to arrest him, the old general, who was waiting, was over- 
joyed to see him, and flung himself into the lad’s arms, and 
embraced him : it was said, for the first time in many years. 
* He is here, gentlemen,’ he sobbed out , — ‘ thank God he is 
not guilty of the robbery ! ’ and then sank back in a chair in a 
burst of emotion ; painful, it was said by those presei^, to 
witness on the part of a man so brave, and known to be so cold 
and stern. 

“ i Robbery ! ’ said the young man. ‘ I swear before heaven 
I am guilty of none ! ’ and a scene of almost touching recon- 
ciliation passed between them, before the unhappy young man 
was led from the guard-house into the prison which he was 
destined never to quit. 

“ That night the duke looked over the papers which Geldern 
had brought to him. It was at a very early stage of the pe- 
rusal, no doubt, that he gave orders for your arrest ; for you 
were taken at midnight, Magny at ten o’clock ; after which time 
the old Baron de Magny had seen his highness, j:>rotesting of 
his grandson’s innocence, and the prince had received him most 
graciously and kindly. His highness said he had no doubt the 


BARRY LYuVDO/Vy ESQ. 


1 S I 

young man was innocent ; .his birth and his blood rendered such 
a crime impossible ; but suspicion was too strong against him : 
he was known to have been that day closeted with the Jew; to 
have received a very large sum of money which he had squan- 
der. d at play, and of which the Hebrew had, doubtless, been 
the lender, — to have dispatched his' servant after him, who in- 
quired the hour of the Jew’s departure, lay in wait for him, and 
rifled him. Suspicion was so strong against the chevalier, that 
common justice required his arrest ; and, meanwhile, until he 
cleared himself, he should be kept in not dishonorable durance, 
and every regard had for his name, and the services of his 
honorable grandfather. With this assurance, and with a warm 
grasp of the hand, the prince left old General de Magny that 
night ; and the veteran retired to rest, almost consoled and 
confident in Maxime’s eventual and immediate release. 

“ But in the morning, before daybreak, the prince, who had 
been reading papers all night, wildly called to the page, who 
slept in the next room across the door, bade him get horses, 
which were always kept in readiness in the stables, and, 
flinging a parcel of letters into a box, told the page to follow 
him on horseback with these. The young man (Monsieur de 
Weissenborn) told this to a young lady who was then of my 
household, and who is now Madame de Weissenborn, and a 
mother of a score of children. 

“ The page described that never was such a change seen as 
in his august master in the course of a single night. His eyes 
were bloodshot, his face livid, his clothes were hanging loose 
about him, and he who had always made his appearance on 
parade as precisely dressed as any sergeant of his troops, might 
have been seen galloping through the lonely streets at early 
dawn without a hat, his unpowdered hair streaming behind him 
like a madman. 

“ The page, with the box of papers, clattered after his mas- 
ter, — it was no easy task to follow him ; and they rode from 
the palace to the town, and through it to the general’s quarter. 
The sentinels at the door were scared at the strange figure that 
rushed up to the general’s gate, and, not knowing him, crossed 
bayonets, and refused him admission. ‘ Fools,’ said Weissen- 
born, ‘ it is the prince ! ’ And, jangling at the bell as if for an 
alarm of fire, the door was at length opened by the porter, and 
his highness ran up to the general’s bedchamber, followed by 
the page with the box. 

“ ‘ Magny — Magny,’ roared the prince, thundering at the 
closed door, ‘ get up ! ’ And to the queries of the old man 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


J S 2 

from within, answered, * It is I — Victor — the prince ! — get up !’ 
And presently the door was opened by the general in his robe* 
de-chambre, and the prince entered. The page brought in the 
box, and was bidden to wait without, which lie did ; but there 
led from Monsieur de Magny’s bed-room into his ante-chamber 
two doors, the great one which formed the entrance into his 
room, and a smaller one which led, as the fashion is with our 
houses abroad, into the closet which communicates with the 
alcove where the bed is. The door of this was found by M. 
de Weissenborn to be open, and the young man was thus en- 
abled to hear and see everything which occurred within the 
apartment. 

“ The general, somewhat nervously, asked what was the 
reason of so early a visit from his highness ; to which the 
prince did not for a while reply, farther than by staring at him 
rather wildly, and pacing up and down the room. 

“ At last he said, ‘ Here is the cause ! , dashing his fist on the 
box ; and, as he had forgotten to bring the key with him, he 
went to the door for a moment, saying, ‘Weissenborn perhaps 
has it ; ’ but, seeing over the stove one of the general’s couteaux 
de chasse , he took it down, and said, ‘ That will do/ and fell to 
work to burst the red trunk open with the blade of the forest 
knife. The point broke, and he gave an oath, but continued 
haggling on with the broken blade, which was better suited to 
his purpose than the long, pointed knife, and finally succeeded 
in wrenching open the lid of the chest. 

“ ‘ What is the matter ? ’ said he, laughing. ‘ Here’s the 
matter ; — read that ! — here’s more matter, read that ! — here’s 
more — no, not that ; that’s somebody else’s picture — but here’s 
hers ! Do you know that, Magny ? My wife’s — the prin- 
cess’s ! Why did you and your cursed race ever come out of 
France, to plant your infernal wickedness wherever your feet 
fell, and to ruin honest German homes ? What have you and 
yours ever had from my family but confidence and kindness ? 
We gave you a home when you had none, and here’s our re- 
ward ! ’ and he flung a parcel of papers down before the old 
general ; who saw the truth at once : — he had known it long 
before, probably, and sunk down on his chair, covering his 
face. 

“ The prince went on gesticulating, and shrieking almost. 
4 If a man injured you so, Magny, before you begot the father 
of that gambling, lying villain yonder, you would have known 
how to revenge yourself. You would have killed him ! Yes, 
would have killed him. But who’s to help me to my revenge ? 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


T 5d 

I’ve no equal. I can’t meet that dog of a Frenchman, — that 
pimp from Versailles, — and kill him, as if he had played the 
traitor to one of his own degree.’ 

“ ‘ The blood of Maxime de Magny,’ said the old gentleman*, 
proudly, ‘ is as good as that of any prince in Christendom/ 

“ ‘ Can I take it ? ; cried the prince : ‘you know I can’t. I 
can't have the privilege of any other gentleman of Europe. 
What am I to do ? Look here, Magny : I was wild when I 
came here : I didn’t know what to do. You’ve served me for 
thirty years ; you’ve saved my life twice : they are all knaves 
and harlots about my poor old father here — no honest men or 
women — you are the only one — you saved my life : tell me 
what am 1 to do ? ’ Thus, from insulting Monsieur de Magny, 
the poor distracted prince fell to supplicating him ; and, at 
last, fairly flung himself down, and burst out in an agony of tears. 

“ Old Magny, one of the most rigid and cold of men on 
common occasion, when he saw this outbreak of passion on the 
prince’s part, became, as my informant has described to me, as 
much affected as his master. The old man from being cold 
and high, suddenly fell, as it were, into the whimpering queru- 
lousness of extreme old age. He lost all sense of dignity : he 
went down on his knees, and broke out into all sorts of wild, 
incoherent attempts at consolation ; so much so, that Weissen- 
born said he could not bear to look at the scene, and actually 
turned away from the contemplation of it. 

“ But from what followed in a few days, we may guess the 
results of the long interview. The prince, when he came away 
from the conversation with his old servant, forgot his fatal box 
of papers and sent the page back for them. The general was 
on his knees praying in the room when the young man entered, 
and only stirred and looked round wildly as the other removed 
the packet. The prince rode away to his hunting-lodge at 

three leagues from X , and three days after that Maxime 

de Magny died in prison ; having made a confession that he 
was engaged in an attempt to rob the Jew, and that he had made 
away with himself, ashamed of his dishonor. 

“ But it is not known that it was the general himself who 
took his grandson poison : it was said even that he shot him in 
the prison. This, however, was not the case. General de 
Magny carried his grandson the draught which was to carry 
him out of the world ; represented to the wretched youth that 
his fate was inevitable ; that it would be public and disgraceful 
unless he chose to anticipate the punishment, and so left him. 
But it was 710 1 of his own accord , and not until <he had used 


*54 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


every means of escape, as you shall hear, that the unfortunate 
being’s life was brought to an end. 

“ As for General de Magny, he quite fell into imbecility a 
short time after his nephew’s death, and my honored duke’s 
demise. After his highness the prince married the Princess 
Mary of F , as they were walking in the English park to- 

gether, they once met old Magny riding in the sun in the easy 
chair, in which he was carried commonly abroad after his para- 
lytic fits. ‘This is my wife, Magny,’ said the prince, affection- 
ately, taking the veteran’s hand ; and he added, turning to his 
princess, ‘ General de Magny saved my life during the Seven 
Years’ War.’ 

“‘What, you’ve taken her back again?’ said the old man. 
‘I wish you'd send me back my poor Maxime.’ He had quite 
forgotten the death of the poor Princess Olivia, and the prince, 
looking very dark indeed, passed away. 

“And now,” said Madame de Liliengarten, “ I have only one 
more gloomy story to relate to you — the death of the Princess 
Olivia, It is even more horrible than the tale I have just told 
you.” With which preface the old lady resumed her narrative. 

“ The kind, weak princess’s fate was hastened, if not occa- 
sioned, by the cowardice of Magny. He found means to commu- 
nicate with her from his prison, and her highness, who was not 
in open disgrace yet (for the duke, out of regard to the family, 
persisted in charging Magny with only robbery), made the most 
desperate efforts to relieve him, and to bribe the jailers to 
effect his escape. She was so wild that she lost all patience 
and prudence in the conduct of any schemes she may have had 
for Magny’s liberation ; for her husband was inexorable, and 
caused the chevalier’s prison to be too strictly guarded for es- 
cape to be possible. She offered the state jewels in pawn to 
the court banker ; who of course was obliged to decline the 
transaction. She fell down on her knees, it is said, to Geldern, 
the Police Minister, and offered him heaven knows what as a 
bribe. Finally, she came screaming to my poor dear duke, who, 
with his age, diseases, and easy habits, was quite unfit for scenes 
of so violent a nature ; and who, in consequence of the excite- 
ment created in his august bosom by her frantic violence and 
grief, had a fit in which I very nigh lost him. That his dear 
life was brought to an untimely end by these transactions I have 
not the slightest doubt ; for the Strasbourg pie, of which they 
.said he died, never, I am sure, could have injured him, but for 
the injury which his dear gentle heart received from the unusual 
occurrences in which he was forced to take a share. 


BARRY LYNDON \ ESQ. 


T 5S 


“ All her highness’s movements were carefully, though not 
ostensibly, watched by her husband, Prince Victor ; who wait- 
ing upon his august father, sternly signified to him that if his 
highness (my duke) should dare to aid the princess in her efforts 
to release Magny, he, Prince Victor, would publicly accuse the 
princess and her paramour of high treason, and take measures 
with the Diet for removing his father from the throne, as in- 
capacitated to reign. Hence interposition on our part was vain, 
and Magny was left to his fate. 

“ It came, as you are aware, very suddenly. Geldern, Police 
Minister, Hengst, Master of the Horse, and the colonel of the 
prince's guard, waited upon the young man in his prison 
two days after his grandfather had visited him there and left 
behind him the phial of poison which the criminal had not the 
courage to use. And Geldern signified to the young man that 
unless he took of his own accord the laurel-water provided by 
the elder Magny, more violent means of death would be instantly 
employed upon him, and that a file of grenadiers was in wait- 
ing in the court-yard to despatch him. Seeing this, Magny, 
with the most dreadful self-abasement, after dragging himself 
round the room on his knees from one officer to another, weep- 
ing and screaming with terror, at last desperately drank off the 
potion, and was a corpse in a few minutes. Thus ended this 
wretched young man. 

u His death was made public in the Court Gazette two days 

after, the paragraph stating that Monsieur de M , struck 

with remorse for having attempted the murder of the Jew, had 
put himself to death by poison in prison ; and a warning was 
added to all young noblemen of the duchy to avoid the dreadful 
sin of gambling, which had been the cause of the young man’s 
ruin, and had brought upon the gray hairs of one of the noblest 
and most honorable of the servants of the duke irretrievable 
sorrow. 

44 The funeral was conducted with decent privacy, the General 
de Magny attending it. The carriage of the two dukes and all 
the first people of the court made their calls upon the general 
afterwards. He attended parade as usual the next day on the 
Arsenal-Place, and Duke Victor, who had been inspecting the 
building, came out of it leaning on the brave old warrior’s arm. 
He was particularly gracious to the old man, and told his 

officers the oft-repeated story how at Rosbach, when the X 

contingent served with the troops of the unlucky Soubise, the 
general had thrown himself in the way of aFrertch dragoon who 
was pressing hard upon his highness in the rout, had received 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


* 5 6 

the blow intended for his master, and killed the assailant. And 
he alluded to the family motto of 4 Magny sans tache/ and said 
4 It had been always so with his gallant friend and tutor in 
arms.’ This speech affected all present very much ; with the 
exception of the old general, who only bowed and did not 
speak : but when he went home he was heard muttering 
‘ Magny sans tache, Magny sans tache ! ’ and was attacked with 
paralysis that night, from which he never more than partially 
recovered. 

“ The news of Maxime’s death had somehow been kept from 
the princess until now • a Gazette even being printed without 
the paragraph containing the account of his suicide ; but it was 
at length, I know not how, made known to her. And when she 
heard it, her ladies tell me, she screamed and fell, as if struck 
dead ; then sat up wildly and raved like a madwoman, and was 
then carried to her bed, where her physician attended her, and 
where she lay of a brain-fever. All this while the prince used 
to send to make inquiries concerning her ; and from his giving 
orders that his Castle of Schlangenfels should be prepared and 
furnished, I make no doubt it was his intention to send her into 
confinement thither : as had been done with the unhappy sister 
of his Britannic Majesty at Zell. 

“ She sent repeatedly to demand an interview with his high- 
ness ; which the latter declined, saying that he would commu- 
nicate with her highness when her health was sufficiently re- 
covered. To one of her passionate letters he sent back for 
reply a packet, which, when opened, was found to contain the 
emerald that had been the cause round which all this dark in- 
trigue moved. 

“ Her highness at tins time became quite frantic ; vowed in 
the presence of all her ladies that one lock of her darling Max- 
ime’s hair was more precious to her than all the jewels in the 
world , rang for her carriage, and said she would go and kiss 
his tomb ; proclaimed the murdered martyr’s innocence, and 
called down the punishment of heaven, the wrath of her family, 
upon his assassin. The prince, on hearing these speeches (they 
were all, of course, regularly brought to him), is said to have 
given one of his dreadful looks (which I remember now), and 
to have said, 4 This cannot last much longer.’ 

“ All that day and the next the Princess Olivia passed in 
dictating the most passionate letters to the prince her father, to 
the Kings of France, Naples, and Spain, her kinsmen, and to 
all other branchy of her family, calling upon them in the most 
incoherent terms to protect her against the butcher and assassin 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


*57 


her husband, assailing his person in the maddest terms of re- 
proach, and at the same time confessing her love for the mur- 
dered Magny. It was in vain that those ladies who were faith 
ful to her pointed out to her the inutility of these letters, the 
dangerous folly of the confessions which they made ; she in* 
sisted upon writing them, and used to give them to her second 
robe-woman, a Frenchwoman (her highness always affectioned 
persons of that nation), who had the key of her cassette, and 
carried every one of these epistles to Geldern. 

“ With the exception that no public receptions were held, 
the ceremony of the princess’s establishment went on as before. 
Her ladies were allowed to wait upon her and perform their 
usual duties about her person. The only men admitted were, 
however, her servants, her physician and chaplain ; and one 
day when she wished to go into the garden, a heyduc, who kept 
the door, intimated to her highness that the prince’s orders were 
that she should keep her apartments. 

“ They abut, as you remember, upon the landing of the mar- 
ble staircase of Schloss X ; the entrance to Prince Victor’s 

suite of rooms being opposite the princess’s on the same land- 
ing. This space is large, filled with sofas and benches, and the 
gentlemen and officers who waited upon the duke used to make 
a sort of ante-chamber of the landing-place, and pay their court 
to his highness there, as he passed out, at eleven o’clock, to 
parade. At such a time, the heyducs within the princess's suite 
of rooms used to turn out with their halberts and present to 
Prince Victor — the same ceremony being performed on his own 
side, when pages came out and announced the approach of his 
highness. The pages used to come out and say, 4 The prince, 
gemlemen ! ’ and the drums beat in the hall, and the gentlemen 
rose, who were waiting on the benches that ran along the 
balustrade. 

“As if fate impelled her to her death, one day the princess, 
as her guards turned out, and she was aware that the prince 
was standing, as was his wont, on the landing, conversing with 
his gentlemen (in the old days he used to cross to the princess’s 
apartment and kiss her hand) — the princess, who had been 
anxious all the morning, complaining of heat, insisting that all 
the doors of the apartments should be left open ; and giving 
tokens of an insanity which I think was now evident, rushed 
wildly at the doors when the guards passed out, flung them 
open, and before a word could be said, or her ladies could fol- 
low her, was in the presence of Duke Victor, who was talking 
as usual on the landing : placing herself between him and the 
stair, she began apostrophizing him with frantic vehemence :— *• 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


*5 S 


‘“Take notice, gentlemen ! ’ she screamed out, ‘ that this 
man is a murderer and a liar; that he lays plots for honorable 
gentlemen, and kills them in prison ! Take notice, that I too 
am in prison, and fear the same fate : the same butcher who 
killed Maxime de Magny may, any night, put the knife to my 
throat. I appeal to you, and to all the kings of Europe, my 
royal kinsmen. I demand to be set free from this tyrant and 
villain, this liar and traitor ! I adjure you all, as gentlemen of 
honor, to carry these letters to my relatives, and say from whom 
you had them ! ’ and with this the unhappy lady began scatter- 
ing letters about among the astonished crowd. 

“ ‘ Let no man stoop!' cried the prince, in a voice of thun- 
der. ‘ Madame de Gleim, you should have watched your pa- 
tient better. Call the princess’s physicians : her highness’s 
brain is affected. Gentlemen, have the goodness to retire.’ 
And the prince stood on the landing as the gentlemen went 
down the stairs, saying fiercely to the guard, ‘ Soldier, if she 
moves, strike with your halbert ! ’ on which the man brought the 
point of his weapon to the princess’s breast ; and the lady, 
frightened, shrank back, and re-entered her apartments. ‘ Now, 
Monsieur de Weissenborn,’ said the prince, ‘ pick up all those 
papers ; ’ and the prince went into his own apartments, pre- 
ceded by his pages, and never quitted them until he had seen 
every one of the papers burnt. 

“ The next day the Court Gazette contained a bulletin signed 
by the three physicians, stating that ‘ Her highness the heredi- 
tary princess labored under inflammation of the brain, and had 
passed a restless and disturbed night.’ Similar notices were 
issued day after day. The services of all her ladies, except two, 
were dispensed with. Guards were placed within and without 
her doors ; her windows were secured, so that escape from them 
was impossible ; and you know what took place ten days after. 
The church-bells were ringing all night, and the prayers of the 
faithful asked for a person in extremis. A Gazette appeared in 
the morning, edged with black, and stating that the high and 
mighty Princess Olivia Maria Ferdinanda, consort of His Serene 

Highness Victor Louis Emanuel, Hereditary Prince of X , 

had died in the evening of the 24th of January, 1769. 

“ But do you know how she died, sir ? That, too, is a mys- 
tery. Weissenborn, the page, was concerned in this dark 
tragedy ; and the secret was so dreadful, that never, believe 
me, till Prince Victor’s death did I reveal it. 

“ After the fatal esclandre which the princess had made, the 
prince sent for Weissenborn, and binding him by the most 
solemn adjuration to secrecy Hie only broke it to his wife many 


BARRY LYNDEN \ ESQ. 


*59 

years after : indeed there is no secret in the world that women 
cannot know if they will), despatched him on the following 
mysterious commission. 

“ 4 There lives/ said his highness, 4 on the Kehl side of the 
river, opposite to Strasbourg, a man whose residence you will 
easily find out from his name, which is Monsieur de Strasbourg . 
You will make your inquiries concerning him quietly, and with- 
out occasioning any remark ; perhaps you had better go into 
Strasbourg for the purpose, where the person is quite well 
known. You will take with you any comrade on whom you 
can perfectly rely : the lives of both, remember, depend on 
your secrecy. You will find out some period when Monsieur 
de Strasbourg is alone, or only in company of the domestic who 
lives with him : (I myself visited the man by accident on my 
return from Paris five years since, and hence am induced to 
s'end for him now, in my present emergency.) You will have 
your carriage waiting at .his door at night , and you and your 
comrade will enter his house masked ; and present him with a 
purse of a hundred louis ; promising him double that sum on 
his return from his expedition. If he refuse, you must use force 
and bring him ; menacing him with instant death should he de- 
cline to follow you. You will place him in the carriage with 
the blinds drawn, one or other of you never losing sight of him 
the whole way, and threatening him with death if he discover 
himself or cry out. You will lodge him in the old Tower here, 
where a room shall be prepared for him ; and his work being 
done, you will restore him to his home in the same speed and 
secrecy with which you brought him from it.’ 

44 Such were the mysterious orders Prince Victor gave his 
page ; and Weissenborn, selecting for his comrade in the ex- 
pedition Lieutenant Bartenstein, set out on his strange journey. 

44 All this while the palace was hushed, as if in mourning ; 
the bulletins in the Court Gazette appeared, announcing the 
continuance of the princess’s malady ; and though she had but 
few attendants, strange and circumstantial stories were told re- 
garding the progress of her complaint. She was quite wild. 
She had tried to kill herself. She had fancied herself to be I 
don’t know how many different characters. Expresses were 
sent to her family informing them of her state, and couriers 
despatched publicly to Vienna and Paris to procure the attend- 
ance of physicians skilled in treating diseases of the brain. 
That pretended anxiety was all a feint : it was never intended 
that the princess should recover. 

44 The day on which Weissenborn and Bartenstein returned 
from their expedition, it was announced that her highness the 


i6q 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


princess was much worse ; that night the report through the 
town was that- she was at the agony : and that night the unfor- 
tunate creature was endeavoring to make her escape. 

“ She had unlimited confidence in the French chamber- 
woman who attended her, and between her and this woman the 
plan of escape was arranged. The princess took her jewels in 
a casket ; a private door, opening from one of her rooms and 
leading into the outer gate, it was said, of the palace, was dis- 
covered for her : and a letter was brought to her, purporting to 
be from the duke, her father-in-law, and stating that a carriage 

and horses had been provided, and would take her to B : 

the territory where she might communicate with her family and 
be safe. 

“ The unhappy lady, confiding in her guardian, set out on 
the expedition. The passages wound through the walls of the 
modern part of the palace and abutted in effect at the Old 
Owl Tower, as it was called, on the outer wall : the tower was 
pulled down afterwards, and for good reason. 

“ At a certain place the candle, which the chamber-woman 
was carrying, went out ; and' the princess would have screamed 
with terror, but her hand was seized, and a voice cried, 4 Hush 1 r 
The next minute a man in a mask (it was the duke himself) 
rushed forward, gagged her with a handkerchief, her hands and 
legs were bound, and she was carried swooning with terror 
into a vaulted room, where she was placed by 3 person there 
waiting, and tied in an armchair. The same mask who had 
gagged her, came and bared her neck and said, ‘ It had best 
be done now she has fainted.’ 

“ Perhaps it would have been as well ; for though she re- 
covered from her swoon, and her confessor, who was present, 
came forward and endeavored to prepare her for the awful deed 
which was about to be done upon her, and for the state into 
which she was about to enter, when she came to herself it was 
only to scream like a maniac, to curse the duke as a^butcher 
and tyrant, and to call upon Magny, her dear Magny. 

“ At this the duke said, quite calmly, ‘ May God have 
mercy on her sinful soul ! ’ He, the confessor, and Geldern, 
who were present, w r ent down on their knees ; and, as his high- 
ness dropped his handkerchief, Weissenborn fell down in a 
fainting fit ; while Monsieur de Strasbourg, taking the back hair 
in his hand, separated the shrieking head of Olivia from the mis- 
erable, sinful body. May heaven have mercy upon her soul ! ” 
* * * * 

This w r as the story told by Madame de Liliengarten, and 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


i6t 


the reader will have no difficulty in drawing from it that part 
which affected myself and my uncle ; who, after six weeks of 
arrest, were set at liberty, but with orders to quit the duchy 
immediately : indeed, with an escort of dragoons to conduct 
us to the frontier. What property we had we were allowed to 
sell and realize in money ; but none of our play debts were 
paid to us : and all my hopes of the Countess Ida were thus 
at an end. 

When Duke Victor came to the throne, which he did when, 
six months after, apoplexy carried off the old sovereign, his 

father, all the good old usages of X were given up, — play 

forbidden ; the opera and ballet sent to the right-about ; and 
the regiments which the old duke had sold recalled from their 
foreign service : with them came my countess’s beggarly 
cousin the ensign, and he married her. I don’t know whether 
they were happy or not. It is certain that a woman of such a 
poor spirit did not merit any very high degree of pleasure. 

The now reigning Duke of X himself married four years 

after his first wife’s demise, and Geldern, though no longer 
Police Minister, built the grand house of which Madame de 
Liliengarten spoke. What became of the minor actors in the 
great tragedy, who knows ? Only Monsieur de Strasbourg was 
restored to his duties. Of the rest, — the Jew; the chamber- 
woman, the spy on Magny, I know nothing. Those sharp 
tools with wl^ich great people cut out their enterprises are gen- 
erally broken in the using : nor did I ever hear that their em- 
ployers had much regard for them in their ruin. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

I CONTINUE MY CAREER AS A MAN OF FASHION. 

I find I have already filled up many scores of pages, and 
yet a vast deal of the most interesting portion of my history 
remains to be told, viz. that which describes my sojourn in the 
kingdoms of England and Ireland, and the great part I played 
there ; moving among the most illustrious of the land, myself 
not the least distinguished of the brilliant circle. In order to 
give due justice to this portion of my memoirs, then, — which is 


62 


TIIE MEMOIRS OF 


more important than my foreign adventures can be (though I 
could fill volumes with interesting descriptions of the latter), — 
I shall cut short the account of my travels in Europe, and of 
my success at the Continental courts, in order to speak of what 
befell me at home. Suffice it to say that there is not a capital 
in Europe, except the beggarly one of Berlin, where the young 
Chevalier de Balibari was not known and admired ; and where 
he has not made the brave, the high-born, and the beautiful, 
talk of him. I won 80,000 roubles from Potemkin at the Winter 
Palace at Petersburg, which the scoundrelly favorite never 
paid me ; I have had the honor of seeing his Royal Highness 
the Chevalier Charles Edward as drunk as any porter at Rome ; 
my uncle played several matches at billiards against the cel- 
ebrated Lord C , at Spa, and 1 promise you did not come 

off a loser. In fact, by a neat stratagem of ours, we raised the 
laugh against his lordship, and something a great deal more 
substantial. My lord did not know that the Chevalier Barry 
had a useless eye > and when, one day, my uncle playfully bet 
him odds at billiards that he would play him with a patch over 
one eye, the noble lord, thinking to bite us (he was one of the 
most desperate gamblers that ever lived), accepted the bet, and 
we won a very considerable amount of him. 

Nor need I mention my successes among the fairer portion 
of the creation. One of the most accomplished, the tallest, the 
most athletic, and the handsomest gentlemen of Europe, as I 
was then, a young fellow of my figure could not fail of having 
advantages, which a person of my spirit knew very well how to 
use. But upon these subjects I am dumb. Charming Schuva- 
loff, black-eyed Sczotarska, dark Valdez, tender Hegenheiln, 
brilliant Langeac ! — ye gentle hearts that knew how to beat in 
old times for the warm young Irish gentleman, where are ye 
now ? Though my hair has grown gray now, and my sight dim, 
and my heart cold with years, and ennui, and disappointment, 
and the treachery of friends, yet I have but to lean back in my 
arm-chair and think, and those sweet figures come rising up 
before me out of the past, with their smiles, and their kindnesses, 
and their bright tender eyes ! There are no women like them 
now — no manners like theirs ! Look you at a bevy of women 
at the prince’s, stitched up in tight white satin sacks, with their 
waists under their arms, and compare them to the graceful 
figures of the old time ! Why, when I danced with Coralie de 
Langeac at the fetes on the birth of the first dauphin at Ver- 
sailles, her hoop was eighteen feet in circumference, and the 
heels of her lovely little mules were three inches from the ground ; 


BARRY L YNDOiY, ESQ. 


163 

the lace of my jabot was worth a thousand crowns, and the but- 
tons of my amaranth velvet coat alone cost eighty thousand 
livres. Look at the difference now ! The gentlemen are 
dressed like boxers, quakers, or hackney-coachmen ; and the 
ladies are not dressed at all. There is no elegance, no refine- 
ment ; none of the chivalry of the old world, of which I form a 
portion. Think of the fashion of London being led by a 
Br-mm-11 ! * a nobody’s son : a low creature, who can no more 
dance a minuet than I can talk Cherokee ; who cannot even 
crack a bottle like a gentleman ; who never showed himself to 
be a man with his sword in his hand • as we used to approve 
ourselves in the good old times, before that vulgar Corsican 
upset the gentry of the world! Oh, to see the Valdez once 
again, as on that day I met her first driving in state, with her 
eight mules and her retinue of gentlemen, by the side of yellow 
Manganares ! Oh, for another drive with Hegenheim, in the 
gilded sledge, over the Saxon snow ! False as Schuvaloff was, 
’twas better to be jilted by her than to be adored by any other 
woman. I can’t think of any one of them without tenderness. 
I have ringlets of all their hair in my poor little museum of 
recollections. Do you keep mine, you dear souls that survive 
the turmoils and troubles of near half a hundred years ? How 
changed its color is now, since the day Sczotarska wore it round 
her neck, after my duel with Count Bjernaski, at Warsaw ! 

I never kept any beggarly books of accounts in those days. 
I had no dfebts. I paid royally for everything I took ; and I 
took everything I wanted. My income must have been very 
large. My entertainments and equipages were those of a gen- 
tleman of the highest distinction : nor let any scoundrel pre- 
sume to sneer because I carried off and married my Lady 
Lyndon (as you shall presently hear), and call me an adven- 
turer, or say I was penniless, or the match unequal. Penniless ! 
I had the wealth of Europe at my command. Adventurer ! 
So is a meritorious lawyer or a gallant soldier ; so is every man 
who makes his own fortune an adventurer. My profession was 
play : in which I was then unrivalled. No man could play 
with me through Europe, on the square ; and my income was 
just as certain (during health and the exercise of my profession) 
as that of a man who draws on his Three-per-cents, or any fat 
squire whose acres bring him revenue. Harvest is not more 
certain than the effect of skill is : a crop is a chance, as much 
as a game of cards greatly played by a fine player : there may 

* This manuscript must have been written at the time when Mr. Brummell was the leadef 
of the London fashion. 


164 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


be a drought, or a frost, or a hail-storm, and your stake is lost ; 
but one man is just as much an adventurer as another. 

In evoking the recollection of these kind and fair creatures 
I have nothing but pleasure. I would I could say as much of 
the memory of another lady, who will henceforth play a con- 
siderable part in the drama of my life, — I mean the Countess 
of Lyndon ; whose fatal acquaintance I made at Spa, very soon 
after the events described in the last chapter had caused me to 
quit Germany. 

Honoria, Countess of Lyndon, Viscountess Bullingdon in 
England, Baroness Castle Lyndon of the kingdom of Ireland, 
was so well known to the great world in her day, that I have 
little need to enter into her family history ; which is to be had 
in any Peerage that the reader may lay his hand on. She was, 
as I need not say, a countess, viscountess, and baroness in her 
own right. Her estates in Devon and* Cornwall were among 
the most extensive in those parts ; her Irish possessions not 
less magnificent ; and they have been alluded to, in a very early 
part of these memoirs, as lying near to my own paternal prop- 
erty in the kingdom of Ireland . indeed, unjust confiscations in 
the time of Elizabeth and her father went to diminish my acres, 
while they added to the already vast possessions of the Lyn- 
don family. 

The countess, when I first saw her at the assembly at Spa, 
was the wife of her cousin, the Right Hon. Sir Charles Regi- 
nald Lyndon, Knight of the Bath, and Minister to George II. 
and George III. at several of the smaller courts of Europe. 
Sir Charles Lyndon was celebrated as a wit and bon vivant : 
he could write love-verses against Hanbury Williams, and make 
jokes with George Selwyn ; he was a man of vertu, like Horry 
Walpole, with whom and Mr. Grey he had made a part of the 
grand tour ; and was cited, in a word, as one of the most ele- 
gant and accomplished men of his time. 

I made this gentleman’s acquaintance as usual at the play- 
table, of which he was a constant frequenter Indeed, one 
could not but admire the spirit and gallantry with which he 
pursued his favorite pastime ; for, though worn out by gout and 
a myriad of diseases, a cripple wheeled about in a chair, and 
suffering pangs of agony, yet you would see him every morning 
and every evening at his post behind the delightful green 
cloth • and if, as it would often happen, his own hands were too 
feeble or inflamed to hold the box, he would call the mains, 
nevertheless, and have his valet or a friend to throw for him. 
I like this courageous spirit in a man : the greatest successes 
in life have been won by such indomitable perseverance. 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


i6 5 

I was by this time one of the best-known characters in 
Europe ; and the fame of my exploits, my duels, my courage 
at play, would bring crowds around me in any public society 
where I appeared. I could show reams of scented paper, to 
prove that this eagerness to make my acquaintance was not 
confined to the gentlemen only ; but that I hate boasting, and 
only talk of myself in so far as it is necessary to relate myself’s 
adventures : the most singular of any man’s in Europe. Well, 
Sir Charles Lyndon’s first acquaintance with me originated 
in the right honorable knight’s winning 700 pieces of me at 
piquet (for which he was almost my match) ; and I lost them 
with much good-humor, and paid them : and paid them, you 
may be sure, punctually. Indeed, I will say this for myself, 
that losing money at play never in the least put me out of good- 
humor with the winner, and that wherever I found a superior, 
I was always ready to acknowledge and hail him. 

Lyndon was very proud of winning from so celebrated a 
person, and we contracted a kind of intimacy ; which, however, 
did not for a while go beyond pump-room attentions, and con- 
versations over the supper-table at play : but which gradually 
increased, until [was admitted into his more private ' friend- 
ship. He was a very free-spoken man (the gentry of those 
days were much prouder than at present), and used to say to 
me in his haughty, easy way, “ Hang it, Mr. Barry, you have 
no more manners than a barber, and I think my black footman 
has been better educated than you ; but you are a young fellow 
of originality and pluck, and I like you, sir, because you seem 
determined to go to the deuce by a way of your own.” I would 
thank him laughingly for this compliment, and say, that as he 
was bound to the next world much sooner than I was, I would 
be obliged to him to get comfortable quarters arranged there 
for me. He used also to be immensely amused with my stories 
about the splendor of my family and the magnificence of Castle 
Brady : he would never tire of listening or laughing at those 
histories. 

“ Stick to the trumps, however, my lad,” he would say, when 
I told him of my misfortunes in the conjugal line, and how 
near I had been winning the greatest fortune in Germany. 
“ Do anything but marry, my artless Irish rustic” (he called 
me by a multiplicity of queer names). “ Cultivate your great 
talents in the gambling line ; but mind this, that a woman will 
beat you.” 

That I denied ; mentioning several instances in which I 
had conquered the most intractable tempers among the sex. 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


1 66 


“ They will beat you in the long run, my Tipperary Alci 
biades. As soon as you are married, take my word of it, you 
are conquered. Look at me. I married my cousin, the noblest 
and greatest heiress in Europe — married her in spite of herself 
almost ” (here a dark shade passed over Sir Charles Lyndon’s 
countenance). “ She is a weak woman. You shall see her, 
sir, hou> weak she is ; but she is my mistress. She has embit- 
tered my whole life. She is a fool ; but she has got the better 
of one of the best heads in Christendom. She is enormously 
rich ; but somehow I have never been so poor as since 1 mar- 
ried her. I thought to better myself ; and she has made me 
miserable, and killed me. And she will do as much for my 
successor, when I am gone.” 

“ Has her ladyship a very large income ? ” said I. At which 
Sir Charles burst out into a yelling laugh, and made me blush 
not a little at my gaucherie ; for the fact is, seeing him in the 
condition in which he was} I could not help speculating upon 
the chance a man of spirit might have with his widow. 

“ No, no !” said he, laughing. “ Waugh hawk, Mr. Barry ; 
don’t think, if you value your peace of mind, to stand in my 
shoes when they are vacant. Besides, I don’t think my Lady 
Lyndon would quite condescend to marry a ” 

“ Marry a what, sir ? ” said I, in a rage. 

“ Never mind what: but the man who gets her will rue it, 
take my word on’t. A plague on her ! had it not been for my 
father’s ambition and mine (he was her uncle and guardian, and 
we wouldn’t let such a prize out of the family), 1 might have 
died peaceably, at least ; carried my gout down to my grave in 
quiet, lived in my modest tenement in May Fair, had every 
house in England open to me ; and now, now I have six of my 
own, and every one of them is a hell to me. Beware of great- 
ness, Mr. Barry. Take warning by me. Ever since 1 have 
been married and have been rich, I have been the most miser- 
able wretch in the world. Look at me. I am dying a worn- 
out cripple at the age of fifty. Marriage has added forty years 
to my life. When I took off Lady Lyndon, there was no man 
of my years who looked so young as myself. Fool that I was ! 
I had enough with my pensions, perfect freedom, the best so- 
ciety in Europe ; and I gave up all these, and married, and 
was miserable. Take a warning by me, Captain Barry, and 
stick to the trumps.” 

Though my intimacy with the knight was considerable, for 
a long time I neyer penetrated into any other apartments of 
his hotel but those which he himself occupied. His lady lived 


BARKY LYNDON, ESQ. 


1 67 

entirely apart from him ; and it is only curious how they came 
to travel together at all. She was a goddaiighter of old Mary 
Wortley Montague ; and, like that famous old woman of the 
last century, made considerable pretensions to be a blue-stock- 
ing and a bcl esprit. Lady Lyndon wrote poems in English 
and Italian, which still may be read by the curious in the pages 
of the magazines of the day. She entertained a correspondence 
with several of the European savans upon history, science, and 
ancient languages, and especially theology. Her pleasure was 
to dispute controversial points with abbes and bishops ; and 
her flatterers said she rivalled Madame Dacier in learning. 
Every adventurer who had a discovery in chemistry, a new an- 
tique bust, or a plan for discovering the philosopher’s stone, 
was sure to find a patroness in her. She had numberless 
works dedicated to her, and sonnets without end addressed 
to her by all the poetasters of Europe, under the name of Lin- 
donira or Calista. Her rooms were crowded with hideous 
China magots, and all sorts of objects of vet'tu. 

No woman piqued herself more upon her principles, or allowed 
love to be made to her more profusely. There was a habit of 
courtship practised by the fine gentlemen of those days which 
is little understood in our coarse, downright times ; and young 
and old fellows would pour out floods of compliments in letters 
and madrigals, such as would make a sober lady stare were they 
addressed to her now-a-days : so entirely has the gallantry of 
the last century disappeared out of our manners, 

Lady Lyndon moved about with a little court of her own. 
She had half-a-dozen carriages in her progresses. In her own 
she would travel with her companion (some shabby lady of 
quality), her birds, and poodles, and the favorite sava?it for the 
time being. In another would be her female secretary and her 
waiting-women; who, in spite of their care, never could make 
their mistress look much better than a slattern. Sir Charles 
Lyndon had his own chariot, and the domestics of the establish- 
ment would follow in other vehicles. 

Also must be mentioned the carriage in which rode her 
ladyship’s chaplain, Mr. Runt, who acted in capacity of gover- 
nor to her son, the little Viscount Bullingdon, — a melancholy, 
deserted little boy, about whom his father was more than indif- 
ferent, and whom his mother never saw, except for two minutes 
at her levee, when she would put to him a few questions of 
history or Latin grammar ; after which he was consigned to his 
own amusements, or the care of his governor, for the rest u 
the day. 


t6S 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


The notion of such a Minerva as this, whom I saw in the 
public places now and then, surrounded by swarms of needy 
abbe's and schoolmasters, who flattered her, frightened me for 
some time, and I had not the least desire to make her acquaint- 
ance. I had no desire to be one of the beggarly adorers in 
the great lady’s train, — fellows, half friend, half lackey, who 
made verses, and wrote letters, and ran errands, content to be 
paid by a seat in her ladyship’s box at the comedy, or a cover 
at her dinner-table at noon. “ Don’t be afraid,” Sir Charles 
Lyndon would say, whose great subject of conversation and 
abuse was his lady : “ my Lindonira will have nothing to do 
with you. She likes the Tuscan brogue, not that of Kerry. 
She says you smell too much of the stable to be admitted to 
ladies’ society ; and last Sunday fortnight, when she did me the 
honor to speak to me last, said, 4 1 wonder, Sir Charles Lytidon, 
a gentleman who has been the King’s ambassador, can demean 
himself by gambling and boozing with low Irish blacklegs ! ’ 
Don’t fly in a fury ! I’m a cripple, and it was Lindonira said it, 
not I.”' 

This piqued me, and I resolved to become acquainted with 
Lady Lyndon ; if it were but to show her ladyship that the de- 
scendant of those Barrys, whose property she unjustly held, was 
not an unworthy companion for any lady, were she ever so high. 
Besides, my friend the knight was dying: his widow would be 
the richest prize in the three kingdoms. Why should I not win 
her, and, with her, the means of making in the world that figure 
which my genius and inclination desired ? I felt I was equal in 
blood and breeding to any Lyndon in Christendon, and deter- 
mined to bend this haughty lady. When I determine, I look 
upon the thing as done. 

My uncle and I talked the matter over, and speedily settled 
upon a method for making our approaches upon this stately 
lady of Castle Lyndon. Mr. Runt, young Lord Bullingdon’s 
governor, was fond of pleasure, of a glass of Rhenish in the 
garden-houses in the summer evenings, and of a sly throw of 
the dice when the occasion offered ; and I took care to make 
friends with this person, who, being a college tutor and an Eng- 
lishman, was ready to go on his knees to any one who resem- 
bled a man of fashion. Seeing me with my retinue of servants, 
my vis-a-vis and chariots, my valets, my hussar, and horses, 
dressed .in gold, and velvet, and sables, saluting the greatest 
people in Europe as we met on the course, or at the Spas, Runt 
was dazzled by my advances, and was mine by a beckoning of 
the linger. I shall never forget the poor wretch’s astonishment 


BARRY LYNDON \ RSQ. 


169 

when I asked him to dine, with two counts, off gold plate, at 
the little room in the casino : he was made happy by being 
allowed to win a few pieces of us, became exceedingly tipsy, 
sung Cambridge songs, and recreated the company by telling 
us, in his horrid Yorkshire French, stories about the gyps, and 
all the lords that had ever been in his college. I encouraged 
him to come and see me oftener and bring with him his little 
viscount ; for whom, though the boy always detested me, I took 
care to have a good stock of sweetmeats, toys, and picture- 
books when he came. 

I then began to enter into a controversy with Mr. Runt, and 
confided to him some doubts which I had, and a very, very 
earnest leaning towards the Church of Rome. I made a certain 
abbe whom I knew write me letters upon transubstantiation, &c., 
which the honest tutor was rather puzzled to answer. I knew 
that they would be communicated to his lady, as they were ; for, 
asking leave to attend the English service which was celebrated 
in her apartments, and frequented by the best English then at 
the Spa, on the second Sunday she condescended to look at me ; 
on the third she was pleased to reply to my profound bow, by a 
curtsey ; the next day I followed up the acquaintance by an- 
other obeisance in the public walk ; and, to make a long story 
short, her ladyship and I were in full correspondence on tran- 
substantiation before six weeks were over. My lady came to 
the aid of her chaplain ; and then I began to see the prodigious 
weight of his arguments : as was to be expected. The progress 
of this harmless little intrigue need not be detailed. I make no 
doubt every one of my readers has practised similar stratagems 
when a fair lady was in the case. 

I shall never forget the astonishment of Sir Charles Lyndon 
when, on one summer evening, as he was issuing out to the 
play-table in his sedan-chair, according to his wont, her lady- 
ship’s barouche and four, with her outriders in the tawny livery 
of the Lyndon family, came driving into the court-yard of the 
house which they inhabited ; and in that carriage, by her lady- 
ship’s side, sat no other than “the vulgar Irish adventurer,” as 
she was pleased to call him : I mean Redmond Barry, Esquire. 
He made the most courtly of his bows, and grinned and 
waved his hat in as graceful a manner as the gout permitted ; 
and her ladyship and I replied to the salutation with the utmost 
politeness and elegance on our parts. 

I could not go to the play-table for some time afterwards/ 
for Lady Lyndon and I had ah argument on transubstantiation, 
which lasted for three hours ; in which she was, as usual, vio 


170 


77/ A' MEM OI RS OF 


torious, and in which her companion, the Honorable Miss Flint 
Skinner, fell asleep ; but when, at last, I joined Sir Charles at 
the casino, he received me with a yell of laughter, as his wont 
was, and introduced me to all the company as Lady Lyndon's 
interesting young convert. This was his way. He laughed and 
sneered at everything. He laughed when he was in a par- 
*oxysm of pain ; he laughed when he won money, or when lie 
lost it ; his laugh was not jovial or agreeable, but rather pain- 
ful and sardonic. 

“ Gentlemen,” said he to Punter, Colonel Loder, Count du 
Carreau, and several jovial fellows with whom he used to dis- 
cuss a flask of Champagne and a Rhenish trout or two after 
play, “ see this amiable youth ! He has been troubled by re- 
ligious scruples, and has flown for refuge to my chaplain, Mr. 
Runt, who has asked for advice from my wife, Lady Lyndon ; 
and, between them both, they are confirming my ingenious 
young friend in his faith. Did you ever hear of such doctors, 
and such a disciple ? ” 

“ ’Faith, sir,” said I, “ if I want to learn good principles, it's 
surely better I should apply for them to your lady and your 
chaplain than to you ! ” 

“ He wants to step into my shoes ! ” continued the knight. 

“ The man would be happy who did so,” responded I, “ pro- 
vided there were no chalk-stones included ! ” At which reply 
Sir Charles was not very well pleased, and went on with in- 
creased rancor. He was always free-spoken in his cups ; and 
to say the truth, he was in his cups many more times in a week 
than his doctors allowed. 

“ Is it not a pleasure, gentlemen,” said he, “ for me, as I am 
drawing near the goal, to find my home such a happy one ; my 
wife so fond of me, that she is even now thinking of appointing 
a successor? (I don’t mean you precisely, Mr. Barry ; you are 
only taking your chance with a score of others whom I could 
mention.) Isn’t it a comfort to see her, like a prudent house- 
wife, getting everything ready for her husband’s departure ? ” 

“ I hope you are not thinking of leaving us soon, knight ? ” 
said I, with perfect sincerity ; for I liked him, as a most amusing 
companion. 

“ Not so soon, my dear, as you may fancy, perhaps,” con- 
tinued he. “ Why, man, I have been given over any time these 
four years ; and there was always a candidate or two waiting 
'to apply for the situation. Who knows how long I may keep 
you waiting ? ” and he did keep’ me waiting some little time 
longer than at that period there was any reason to suspect. 


BARR I ’ L YNDOiX, ESQ. 


* 7 * 

As I declared myself pretty openly, according to my usual 
way, and authors are accustomed to describe the persons of 
the ladies with whom their heroes fall in love ; in com- 
pliance with this fashion, I perhaps should say a word or two 
respecting the charms of my Lady Lyndon. But though I 
celebrated them in many copies of verses, of my own and 
other persons 7 writing ; and though I filled reams of paper 
in the passionate style of those days with compliments to 
every one of her beauties and smiles, in which I compared 
her to every flower, goddess, or famous heroine ever heard of ; 
truth compels me to say, that there was nothing divine about 
her at all. She was very well ; but no more. Her shape was 
fine, her hair dark, her eyes good, and exceedingly active ; she 
loved singing, but performed it as so great a lady should, very 
much out of tune. She had a smattering of half-a-dozen mod- 
ern languages, and, as I have said before, of many more 
sciences than I even knew the name of. She piqued herself 
on knowing Greek and Latin ; but the truth is, that Mr. Runt 
used to supply her with the quotations which she introduced 
into her voluminous correspondence. She had as much love 
of admiration, as strong, uneasy a vanity, and as little heart, 
as any woman I ever knew. Otherwise, when her son, Lord 

Bullingdon, on account of his differences with me, ran but 

that matter shall be told in its proper time. ’ Finally, my Lady 
Lyndon was about a year older than myself ; though, of course, 
she would take her Bible oath that she was three years 
younger. 

Few men are so honest as I am ; for few will own to their 
real motives, and I don’t care a button about confessing mine. 
What Sir Charles Lyndon said was perfectly true. I made tne 
acquaintance of Lady Lyndon with ulterior views* “ Sir,” said 
I to him, when, after the scene described and the jokes he 
made upon me, we met alone, “ let those laugh that win. You 
were very pleasant upon me a few nights since, and on my in- 
tentions regarding your lady. Well, if they are what you think 
they are, — if I do wish to step into your shoes, what then ? I 
have no other intentions than you had yourself. I’ll be sworn 
to muster just as much regard for my Lady Lyndon as you ever 
showed her; and if I win her and wear her when you are dead 
and gone, corbleu , knight, do you think it will be the fear of 
your ghost will deter me ? ” 

Lyndon laughed as usual ; but somewhat disconcertedly : 
indeed I had clearly the best of him in the argument, and had 
just as much right to hunt my fortune as he had. 


TJIE MEMOIRS OF 


172 


But one day he said, u If you marry such a woman as my 
Lady Lyndon, mark my words, you will regret it. You will 
pine after the liberty you once enjoyed. By George ! Captain 
Barry,” he added with a sigh, “ the thing that I regret most in 
life — perhaps it is because I am old, blase , and dying — is, that 
I never had a virtuous attachment.” 

“Ha! ha! a milkmaid’s daughter!” said I, laughing at 
the absurdity. 

“ Well, why not a milkmaid’s daughter ? My good fellow, 
I was in love in youth, as most gentlemen are, with my tutor’s 
daughter, Helena, a bouncing girl ; of course older than my- 
self ” (this made me remember my own little love-passages 
with Nora Brady in the days of my early life), “ and do you 
know, sir, I heartily regret I didn’t marry her ? There’s no- 
thing like having a virtuous drudge at home, sir ; depend upon 
that. It gives a zest to one’s enjoyments in the world, take 
my word for it. No man of sense need restrict himself, or 
deny himself a single amusement fc^r his wile’s sake • on the 
contrary, if he select the animal properly, he will choose such 
a one as shall be no bar to his pleasure, but a comfort in his 
hours of annoyance. For instance, I have got the gout * who 
tends me ? A hired valet, who robs me whenever he has the 
power. My wife never comes near me. What friend have I ? 
None in the wide world. Men of the world, as you and I are, 
don't make friends ; and we are fools for our pains. Get a 
friend, sir, and that friend a woman — a good household drudge, 
who loves you. That is the most* precious sort of friendship ; 
for the expense of it is all on the woman’s side. The man 
needn’t contribute anything.. If lie’s a rogue, she’ll vow he’s 
an angel; if he’s a brute, she will like him all the better for 
his ill treatment of her. They like it, sir, these women. They 
are born to be our greatest Comforts and conveniences ; our — 
our moral boot-jacks, as it were ; and to men in your way of 
life, believe me such a person would be invaluable. I am only 
speaking for your bodily and mental comfort’s sake, mind. 
Why didn’t I marry poor Helena Flower, the curate’s daughter?” 

I thought these speeches the remarks of a weakly, dis- 
appointed man ; although since, perhaps, I have had reason 
to find the truth of Sir Charles Lyndon’s statements. The 
fact is, in my opinion, that we often buy money very much 
too dear. To purchase a few thousands a year at the ex- 
pense of an odious wife, is very bad economy for a young 
fellow of any talent and spirit : and there have been moments 
of my life when, in the midst of my greatest splendor and 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


*73 


opulence, with half-a-dozen lords at my leve'e, with the finest 
horses in my stables, the grandest house over my head, with 
' unlimited credit at my banker’s, and — Lady Lyndon to boot, I 
have wished myself back a private of Biilow’s, or anything, so 
as to get rid of her. To return, however, to the story. Sir 
Charles, with his complication of ills, was dying before us by 
inches ; and I’ve no doubt it could not have been very 
pleasant to him to see a young handsome fellow paying court 
to his widow before his own face as it were. After I once got 
into the house on the transubstantiation dispute, I found a 
dozen more •occasions to improve my intimacy, and was scarcely 
ever out of her ladyship’s doors. The world talked and blus- 
tered ; but what cared I ? The men cried fie upon the shame- 
less Irish adventurer ; but I have told my way of silencing such 
envious people ; and my sword had by this time got stich a rep- 
utation through Europe, that few people cared to encounter it. 
If I can once get my hold of a place, I keep it. Many’s the 
house I have been to where I have seen the men avoid me. 
“ Faugh ! the low Irishman,’’ they would say. “ Bah ! the coarse 
adventurer ! ” “ Out on the insufferable blackleg and puppy ! ” 
and so forth. This hatred has been of no inconsiderable ser- 
vice to me in the world , for when I fasten on a man, nothing 
can induce me to release my hold : and I am left to myself, 
which is all the better. As I told Lady Lyndon in those days, 
with perfect sincerity, “ Calista ” (I used to call her Calista in 
my correspondence) — “ Calista, I swear to thee, by the spotless- 
ness of thy own soul, by the brilliancy of thy immitigable eyes, 
by every thing pure and chaste in heaven and in thy own heart, 
that I will never cease from following thee ! Scorn I can bear, 
and have borne at thy hands. Indifference I can surmount • 
’tis a rock which my energy will climb over, a magnet which at- 
tracts the dauntless iron of my soul ! ” And it was true, I 
wouldn’t have left her — no, though they had kicked me down 
stairs every day I presented myself at her door. 

That is my wav of fascinating women. Let the man who has 
to make his fortune in life remember this maxim. Attacking is 
his only secret. Dare, and the world always yields : or, if it beat 
you sometimes, dare again, and it will succumb. In those days 
my spirit was so great, that if I had set my heart upon marry- 
ing a princess of the blood, I would have had her ! 

I told Calista my story, and altered very, very little of the 
truth. My object was to frighten her : to show her that what 
I wanted, that I dared ; that what what I dared, that I won ; 
and there were striking passages enough in my history to con- 


1 74 


TIIE MEMOIRS OF 


vince her of my iron will and indomitable courage. “ Never 
hope to escape me, madam/’ I would say : “ offer to marry an- 
other man, and he dies upon this sword, which never yet met 
its master. Fly from me, and I will follow you, though it were 
to the gates of Hades.” I promise you this was very different 
language to that she had been in the habit of hearing from her 
jemmyjessamy adorers. You should have seen how I scared the 
fellows from her ! 

When I said in this energetic way that I would follow Lady 
Lyndon across the Styx if necessary, of course I meant that I 
would do so, provided nothing more suitable presented itself in 
the interim. If Lyndon would not die, where was the use of 
my pursuing the countess? And somehow, towards the end of 
the Spa season, very much to my mortification I do confess, the 
knight made another rally : it seemed as if nothing would kill 
him. “ I am sorry for you, Captain Barry,” he would say, 
laughing as usual. “ I’m grieved to keep you, or any gentleman, 
waiting. Had you not better arrange with my doctor, or get 
the cook to flavor my omelette with arsenic ? What are the 
odds, gentlemen,” he would add, “ that I don’t live to see Cap- 
tain Barry hanged yet ? ” 

In fact the doctors tinkered him up for a year. “ It’s my 
usual luck,” I could not help saying to my uncle, who was my 
confidential and most excellent adviser in all matters of the 
heart. “ I’ve been wasting the treasures of my affections upon 
that flirt of a countess, and here’s her husband restored to health 
and likely to live I don’t know how many years ! ” And as if to 
add to my mortification, there came just at this period to Spa, 
an English tallow-chandler’s heiress, with a plum to her fortune ; 
and Madame Cornu, the widow of a Norman cattle-dealer and 
farmer-general, with a dropsy and two hundred thousand livres 
a year. 

“ What’s the use of my following the Lyndons to England,” 
says I, “‘if the knight won’t die ? ” 

“ Don't follow them, my dear simple child,” replied my uncle. 
“ Stop here and pay court to the new arrivals.” 

“Yes, and lose Calista for ever, and the greatest estate in 
all England.” 

“ Pooh, pooh ! youths like you easily fire and easily de- 
spond. Keep up a correspondence with Lady Lyndon. You 
know there’s nothing she likes so much. There’s the Irish abbe, 
who will write you the most charming letters for a crown a-piece. 
Let her go ; write to her, and meanwhile look out for anything 
else which may turn up. Who knows? you might marry the 


BARRY LYNDON, \ ESQ. 


1 75 . 

Norman widow, bury her, take her money, and be ready for the 
countess against the knight’s death.” 

And so, with vows of the most profound ^respectful attach- 
ment, and, having given twenty louis to Lady Lyndon’s waiting- 
woman for a lock of her hair (of which fact, of course, the 
woman informed her mistress), I took leave of the countess, 
when it became necessary for her return to her estates in Eng- 
land ; swearing I would follow her as soon as an affair of honor 
I hacl in my hands could be brought to an end. 

I shall pass over the events of <he year that ensued before 
I again saw her. She wrote to me according to promise; with 
much regularity at first, with somewhat less frequency after- 
wards. My affairs, meanwhile, at the play-table went on not 
unprosperously, and I was just on the point of marrying the 
widow Cornu (we were at Brussels by this time, and the poor 
soul was madly in love with me), when the Lo?uio?i Gazette was 
put into my hands, and I read the following announcement : — • 

“ Died at Castle-Lyndon, in the kingdom of Ireland, the Right Honor- 
able Sir Charles Lyndon, Knight of the Bath, Member of Parliament for 
Lyndon in Devonshire, and many years his Majesty’s representative at 
various European courts. He hath left behind him a name which is en- 
deared to all his friends for his manifold virtues and talents, a reputation 
justly acquired in the service of his Majesty, and an inconsolable widow to 
deplore his loss. Her ladyship, the bereaved Countess of Lyndon, was at 
the Bath when the horrid intelligence reached her of her husband’s demise, 
and hastened to Ireland immediately in order to pay her last sad duties to 
his beloved remains. ; 

That very night I ordered my chariot and posted to Ostend, 
whence I freighted a vessel to Dover, and travelling rapidly 
into the West, reached Bristol ; from which port I embarked 
for Waterford, and found myself, after an absence of eleven 
years, in my native country. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

I RETURN TO IRELAND, AND EXHIBIT MY SPLENDOR AND GENE- 
ROSITY IN THAT KINGDOM. 

How were times changed with me now ! I had left my 
country a poor penniless boy — a private soldier in a miserable 
marching regiment. I returned an accomplished man, with 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


176 

property to the amount of five thousand guineas in my pos- 
session, with a splendid wardrobe and jewel-case worth two 
thousand more;. having mingled in all the scenes of life, a not 
undistinguished actor in them ; having shared in war and in 
love ; having by my own genius and energy won my way from 
poverty and obscurity to competence and splendor. As I 
looked out from my chariot windows as it rolled along over the 
bleak, bare roads, by the miserable cabins cf the peasantry, 
who came out in their rags to stare as the splendid equipage 
passed, and huzzaed for h^ lordship’s honor as they saw the 
magnificent stranger in the superb gilded vehicle, my huge 
body-servant Fritz lolling behind with curling mustaches and 
long queue, his green livery barred with silver lace, I could not 
help thinking of myself with considerable complacency, and 
thanking my stars that had endowed me with so many good 
qualities. But for my own merits I should have been a raw Irish 
squireen, such as those I saw swaggering about the wretched 
towns through which my chariot passed on its road to Dublin. 
I might have married Nora Brady (and though, thank heaven, 
I did not, I have never thought of that girl but with kind- 
ness, and even remember the bitterness of losing her more 
clearly at this moment than any other incident of my life) ; I 
might have been the father of ten children by this time, or a 
farmer on my own account, or an agent to a squire, or a gauger, 
or an attorney ; and here I was one of the most famous gentle- 
men of Europe ! I bade my fellow get a bag of copper money 
and throw it among the crowd as we changed horses ; and I 
warrant me there- was as much shouting set up in praise of my 
honor as if my Lord Townsend, the Lord Lieutenant himself, 
had been passing. 

My second day’s journey — for the Irish roads were rough in 
those days, and the progress of a gentleman’s chariot terribly 
slow — brought me to Carlow, where I put up at the very inn 
which I had used eleven years back, when flying from home 
after the supposed murder of Quin in the duel. How well I 
remember every moment of the scene ! The old landlord was 
gone who had served me ; the inn that I then thought so com- 
fortable looked wretched and dismantled ; but the claret was as 
good as in the old days, and I had the host to partake of a jug 
of it and hear the news of the country. 

He was as communicative as hosts usually are ; the crops 
and the markets, the price of beasts at last Castle Dermot 
fair, the last story about the vicar, and the last joke of Father 
Ffogan the priest ; how th.e Whiteboys had burned Squire 


BA RR Y L YjVDO.V, ESQ. 


177 


Scanlan’s ricks, and the highwaymen had been beaten off in 
their attack 'upon Sir Thomas’s house ; who was to hunt the 
Kilkenny hounds next season, and the wonderful run entirely 
they had last March ; what troops were in the town, and how 
Miss Biddy Toole had run off with Ensign Mullins : all the 
news of sport, assize, and quarter-sessions were detailed by 
this worthy chronicler of small-beer, who wondered that my 
honor hadn’t heard of them in England, or in foreign parts, 
where he seemed to think the world was as interested as he 
was about the doings of Kilkenny and Carlow. I listened to 
these tales with, I own, a considerable pleasure ; for every now 
and then a name would come up in the conversation which I 
remembered in old days, and bring with it a hundred associa- 
tions connected with them. 

I had received many letters from my mother, which in- 
formed me of the doings of the Brady’s Town family. My uncle 
was dead, and Mick, his eldest son, had followed him too to • 
the grave. The Brady girls had separated from their paternal 
roof as soon as their elder brother came to rule over it. Some 
were married, some gone to settle with their odious old mother 
in out-of-the-way watering-places. Ulick, though he had suc- 
ceeded to the estate, had come in for a bankrupt property, 
and Castle Brady was now inhabited only by the bats and owls, 
and the old gamekeeper. My mother, Mrs. Harry Barry, had 
gone to live at Bray, to sit under Mr. Jowls, her favorite 
preacher, who had a chapel there ; and, finally, the landlord 
told me, that Mrs. Barry’s son had gone to foreign parts, en- 
listed in the Prussian service, and had been shot there as a 
deserter. 

I don’t care to own that I hired a stout nag from the land- 
lord’s stable after dinner, and rode back at nightfall twenty 
miles to my old home. My heart beat to see it. Barry ville 
had got a pestle and mortar over the door, and was called 
“The Esculapian Repository,” by Doctor Macshane; a led- 
headed lad was spreading a plaster in the old parlor ; the lit- 
tle window of my room, once so neat and bright, was cracked 
in many places, and stuffed with rags here and there ; the flow- 
ers had disappeared from the trim garden-beds which my good 
orderly mother tended. In the churchyard there were two 
more names put into the stone oVer the family vault of the 
Bradys : they were those of my cousin, for whom my regard 
was small, and my uncle, whom I had always loved. I asked 
my old companion the blacksmith, who had beaten me so often 
in old days, to give my horse a feed and a litter : lie was a 


* 7 8 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


worn, weary -looking man now, with a dozen dirty ragged chil- 
dren paddling about his smithy, and had no recollection of the 
fine gentleman who stood before him. I did not seek to recall 
myself to his memory till the next day, when I put ten guineas 
into his hand, and bade him drink the health of English Red- 
mond. 

As for Castle Brady, the gates of the park were still there ; 
but the old trees were cut down in the avenue, a black stump 
jutting out here and there, and casting long shadows as I 
passed in the moonlight over the worn, grass-grown old road. 
A few cows were at pasture there. The garden-gate was gone, 
and the place a tangled wilderness. I sat down on the old 
bench, where I had sat on the day when Nora jilted me ; and 
I do believe my feelings were as strong then as they had been 
when I was a boy, eleven years before ; and I caught myself 
almost crying again, to think that Nora Brady had deserted me. 
I believe a man forgets nothing. I’ve seen a flower, or heard 
some trivial word or two, which have awakened recollections 
that somehow had lain dormant for scores of years ; and when 
I entered the house in Clarges Street, where I was born (it was 
used as a gambling-house when I first visited London), all of a 
sudden the memory of my childhood came back to me — of my 
actual infancy : I recollected my father in green and gold, hold- 
ing me up to look at a gilt coach which stood at the door, and 
my mother in a flowered sack, with patches on her face. Some 
day, I wonder, will everything we have seen and thought and 
done come and flash across our minds in this way ? I had 
rather not. I felt so as I sat upon the bench at Castle Brady, 
and thought of the bygone times. 

The hall-door was open — it was always so at that house ; 
the moon was flaring in at the long old windows, and throwing 
ghastly chequers upon the floors ; and the stars were looking 
in on the other side, in the blue of the yawning window over 
the great stair : from it you could see the old stable-clock, 
with the letters glistening on it still. There had been jolly 
horses in those stables once ; and I could see my uncle’s honest 
face, and hear him talking to his dogs as they came jumping 
and whining and barking round about him of a gay winter 
morning. We used to mount there ; and the girls looked out 
at us from the hall-window, 'where I stood and looked at the 
sad, mouldy, lonely old place. There was a 'red light shining 
through the crevices of a door at one corner of the building, 
and a dog presently came out baying loudly, and a limping man 
followed with a fowling-piece. 


BARRY LYXDOX, ESQ . 


179 


“ Who’s there ? ” said the old man. 

“Phil Purcell, don’t you know me?” shouted I; “it’s 
Redmond Barry.” 

I thought the old man would have fired his piece at me at 
first, for he pointed it at the window ; but I called to him to 
hold his hand, and came down and embraced him. * * * 

Psha ! I don’t care to tell the rest : Phil and I had a long 
night, and talked over a thousand foolish old things that* have 
no interest for any soul alive now ; for what soul is there alive 
that cares for Barry Lyndon ? 

I settled a hundred guineas on the old man when I got to 
Dublin, and made him an annuity which enabled him to pass 
his old days in comfort. 

Poor Phil Purcell was amusing himself at a game of exceed- 
ingly dirty cards with an old acquaintance of mine , no other 
than Tim, who was called my “ valet ” in the days of yore, and 
whom the reader may remember as clad in my father’s old 
liveries. They used to hang about him in those times, and lap 
over his wrists and down to his heels ; but Tim, though he pro- 
tested he had nigh killed himself with grief when I went away, 
had managed to grow enormously fat in my absence, and would 
have fitted almost into Daniel Lambert’s coat, or that of the vicar 
of Castle Brady, whom he served in the capacity of clerk. I 
would have engaged the fellow in my service but for his mon- 
strous size, which rendered him quite unfit to be the attendant 
of any gentleman of condition ; and so I presented him with a 
handsome gratuity, and promised to stand godfather to his next 
child : the eleventh since my absence. There is no country in 
the world where the work of multiplying is carried on so pros- 
perously as in my native island. Mr. Tim had married the 
girls’ waiting-maid, who had been a kind friend of mine in the 
early times ; and I had to go salute poor Molly next day, and 
found her a slatternly wench in a mud hut, surrounded by a 
brood of children almost as ragged as those of my friend the 
blacksmith. 

From Tim and Phil Purcell, thus met fortuitously together, 
I got the very last news respecting my family. My mother was 
well. 

“ ’Faith, sir,” says Tim, “ and you’re come in time, mayhap, 
for preventing an addition to your family.” 

“ Sir ! ” exclaimed I, in a fit of indignation. 

“ Jn the shape of father-in-law, I mane , sir,” says Tim : “ the 
misthress is going to take on with Mr. Jowls the praae/icr." « 

Poor Nora, he added, had made many additions to the ih 


iSo 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


lustrious race of Quin ; and my cousin Ulick was in Dublin, 
coining to little good, both my informants feared, and having 
managed to run through the small available remains of property 
which my good old uncle had left behind him. 

I saw I should have no small family to provide for ; and 
then, to conclude the evening, Phil, Tim, and I, had a bottle 
of usquebaugh, the taste of which I had remembered for eleven 
good years, and did not part except with the warmest terms of 
fellowship, and until the sun had been some time in the sky, 

I am exceedingly affable ; that has always been one of my 
characteristics I have no false pride, as many men of high 
lineage like my own have, and, in default of better company, 
will hob and nob with a ploughboy or a private soldier just as 
readily as with the first noble in the land. 

I went back to the village in the morning, and found a 
pretext for visiting Barryville under a device of purchasing 
drugs. The hooks were still in the wall where my silver-hilted 
sword used to hang ; a blister was lying on the window-sill, 
where my mother’s “ Whole Duty of Man ” had its place ; and 
the odious Doctor Macshane had found out who I was (my 
countrymen find out everything, and a great deal more besides), 
and sniggering, asked me how I left the King of Prussia, and 
whether my friend the Emperor Joseph was as much liked as 
the Empress Maria Theresa hatT been. The bell-ringers would 
have had a ring of bells for me, but there was but one, Tim, 
who was too fat to pull ; and I rode off before the vicar, Doc- 
tor Bolter (who had succeeded old Mr. Texter, who had the 
living in my time), had time to come out to compliment me ; 
but the rapscallions of the beggarly village had assembled in a 
dirty army to welcome me, and cheered “ Hurrah for Masther 
Redmond ! ” as I rode away. 

My people were not a little anxious regarding me by the 
time I returned to Carlow, and the landlord was very much 
afraid, he said, that the highwaymen had gotten hold of me. 
There, too, my name and station had been learned from my 
servant Fritz; who had not spared his praises of his master, 
and had invented some magnificent histories concerning me. 
He said it was the truth that I was intimate with half the sov- 
ereigns of Europe, and the prime favorite with most. of them. 
Indeed I had made my uncle’s order of the Spur hereditary, 
and travelled under the name of the Chevalier Barry, chamber- 
lain to the Duke of Hohenzollern Sigmaringen. 

# They gave me the best horses the stable possessed to carry 
me on my road to Dublin, and the strongest ropes for harness : 


BARKY LYNDON, ESQ. 


1S1 


and we got on pretty well, and there was no rencontre between 
the highwaymen and the pistols with which Fritz and I were 
provided. We lay that night at Kilcullen, and the next day I 
made my entry into the city of Dublin, with four horses to my 
carriage, five thousand guineas in my purse, and one of the 
most brilliant reputations in Europe, having quitted the city a 
beggarly boy, eleven years before. 

The citizens of Dublin have as great and laudable a desire 
for knowing their neighbors’ concerns as the country people 
have ; and it is impossible for a gentleman, however modest his 
desires may be (and such mine have notoriously been through 
life), to enter the capital without having his name printed in 
every newspaper and mentioned in a number of societies. My 
name and titles were all over the town the day after my arrival. 
A great number of polite persons did me the honor to call at 
my lodgings, when I selected them ; and this was a point very 
necessarily of immediate care, for the hotels in the town were 
but vulgar holes, unfit for a nobleman of my fashion and ele- 
gance. I had been informed of the fact by travellers on the 
Continent ; and determining to fix on a lodging at once, I bade 
the drivers go slowly up and down the streets with my chariot, 
until I had selected a place suitable to my rank. This pro- 
ceeding, and the uncouth questions and behavior of my German 
Fritz, who was instructed to make inquiries at the different 
houses until convenient apartments could be lighted upon, 
brought an immense mob round my coach ; and by the time 
the rooms were chosen you might have supposed I was the new 
General of the Forces, so great was the multitude following us. 

I fixed at length upon a handsome suite of apartments in 
Capel Street, paid the ragged postilions who had driven me a 
splendid gratuity, and establishing myself in the rooms with 
my baggage and Fritz, desired the landlord to engage me a 
second fellow to wear my liveries, a couple of stout reputable 
chairmen and their machine, and a coachman who had hand- 
some job-horses to hire for my chariot, and serviceable riding- 
horses to sell. I gave him a handsome sum in advance ; and 
I promise you the effect of my advertisement was such, that 
next day I had a regular leve'e in my antechamber : grooms, 
valets, and maitres-d’hotel offered themselves without number ; 
I had proposals for the purchase of horses sufficient to mount 
a regiment, both from dealers and gentlemen of the first fashion. 
Sir Lawler Gawler came to propose to me the most elegant bay- 
mare ever stepped ; my Lord Dundoodle had a team of four 
that wouldn’t disgrace my friend the Emperor ; and the Marquis 


TIIE MEMOIRS OF 


182 

of Ballyragget sent his gentleman and his compliments, stating 
that if I would step up to his stables, or do him the honor of 
breakfasting with him previously, he would show me the two 
finest grays in Europe. I determined to accept the invitations 
of- D undoodle and Ballyragget. but to purchase my horses from 
the dealers. It is always the best way. Besides, in those days, in 
Ireland, if a gentleman warranted his horse, and it was not 
sound, or a dispute arose, the remedy you had was the offer of 
a bullet in your waistcoat. I had played at the bullet game too 
much in earnest to make use of it heedlessly ; and I may say, 
proudly for myself, that I never engaged in a duel unless I had 
a real, available, and prudent reason for it. 

There was a simplicity about this Irish gentry which amused 
and made me wonder. If they tell more fibs than their down- 
right neighbors across the water, on the other hand they believe 
more ; and I made myself in a single week such a reputation in 
Dublin as would take a man ten years and a mint of money to 
acquire in London. I had won five hundred thousand pounds 
at play ; I was the favorite of the Empress Catherine of Russia; 
the confidential agent of Frederick of Prussia ; it *vas I won the 
battle of Hochkirchen ; I was the cousin of Madame Du Barry, 
the French king’s favorite, and a thousand things beside. In- 
deed, to tell the truth, I hinted a number of these stories to my 
kind friends Ballyragget and Gawler ; and they were not slow 
to improve the hints I gave them. 

After having witnessed the splendors of civilized life abroad, 
the sight of Dublin in the year 1771, when I returned thither, 
struck me with anything but respect. It was as savage as War- 
saw almost, without the regal grandeur of the latter city. The 
people looked more ragged than any race I have ever seen, except 
the gypsy hordes along the banks of the Danube. There was, as 
I have said, not an inn in the town fit for a gentleman of con- 
dition to dwell in. Those luckless fellows who could not keep 
a carriage, and walked the streets at night, ran imminent risks 
of the knives of the women and ruffians who lay in wait there, — 
of a set of ragged, savage villains, who neither knew the use of 
shoe nor razor ; and as a gentleman entered his chair or his char- 
iot, to be carried to his evening rout, or the play, the flambeaux of 
footmen would light up such a set of wild gibbering Milesian 
faces as would frighten a genteel person of average nerves. I 
was luckily endowed with strong ones ; besides, had seen my 
amiable countrymen before. 

I know this description of them will excite anger among 
some Irish patriots, who don’t like to have the nakedness of 


BARRY LYNQOA\ ESQ. ^3 

our land abused, and are angry if the whole truth be told con- 
cerning it. But bah ! it was a poor provincial place, Dublin, in the 
old days of which I speak ; and many a tenth-rate German 
residence is more genteel. There were, it is true, near three 
hundred resident Peers at the period ; and a House of Com- 
mons ; and my Lord Mayor and his corporation ; and a 
roystering, noisy university, whereof the students made no 
small disturbances nightly, patronized the roundhouse, ducked 
obnoxious printers and tradesmen, and gave the law at the 
Crow Street Theatre. But I had seen too much of the first 
society of Europe to be much tempted by the society of these 
noisy gentry, and was a little too much of a gentleman to min- 
gle with the disputes and politics of my Lord Mayor and his 
Aldermen. In the House of Commons there were some dozen 
of right pleasant fellows. I never heard in the English Parlia- 
ment better speeches than from Flood, and Daly, of Galway. 
Dick Sheridan, though not a well-bred person, was as amusing 
and ingenious a table companion as ever I met ; and though 
during Mr. Edmund Burke’s interminable speeches in the 
English House I used always to go to sleep, I yet have heard 
from well-informed parties that MrrBurke was a person of con- 
siderable abilities, and even reputed to be eloquent in his more 
favorable moments. 

I soon began to enjoy to the full extent the pleasures that 
the wretched place affords, and which were within a gentle- 
man’s reach : Ranelagh and the Ridotto ; Mr. Mossop, at Crow 
Street ; my Lord Lieutenant’s parties, where there was a great 
deal too much boozing, and too little play, to suit a person of 
my elegant and refined habits ; “ Daly’s Coffee-house,” and 
the houses of the nobility, were soon open to me ; and I re- 
marked with astonishment in the higher circles, what I had ex- 
perienced in the lower on my first unhappy visit to Dublin, an 
extraordinary want of money, and a preposterous deal of prom- 
issory notes flying about, for which I was quite unwilling to 
stake my guineas. The ladies, too, were mad for play ; but 
exceeding unwilling to pay when they lost. Thus, when the 
old Countess of Trumpington lost ten pieces to me at quad- 
rille, she gave me, instead of the money, her ladyship’s note of 
hand on her agent in Galway ; which 1 put, with a great deal 
of politeness, into the candle. But when the countess made 
me a second proposition to play, I said that as soon as her lady- 
ship’s remittances were arrived, I would be the readiest person 
to meet her , but till then was her very humble servant. And 
I maintained this resolution and singular character throughout 


184 


THE MEMOIRS OF 

/ 

the Dublin- society : giving out at “ Dalv’s ” that I was ready 
to play any man, for any sum, at any game ; or to fence with 
him, or to ride with him (regard being had to our weight), or to 
shoot flying or at a mark : and in this latter accomplishment, es- 
pecially if the mark be a live one, Irish gentlemen of that day 
had no ordinary skill. 

Of course I despatched a courier in my liveries to Castle 
Lyndon with a private letter for Runt, demanding from him full 
particulars of the Countess of Lyndon’s state of health and 
mind ; and a touching and eloquent letter to her ladyship, in 
which I bade her remember ancient days, which I tied up with 
a single hair from the lock which I had purchased from her 
woman, and in which I told her that Sylvander remembered 
his oath, and could never forget his Calista. The answer I re- 
ceived from her was exceedingly unsatisfactory and inexplicit ; 
that from Mr. Runt explicit enough, but not at all pleasant in 
its contents. My Lord George Poynings, the Marquess of Tip- 
toff’s younger son, was paying very marked addresses to the 
widow , being a kinsman of the family, and having been called 
to Ireland relative to the will of the deceased Sir Charles 
Lyndon. 

Now, there was a sort of rough-and-ready law in Ireland in 
those days, which was of great convenience to persons desirous 
of expeditious justice ; and of which the newspapers of the time 
contain a hundred proofs. Fellows with the nicknames of 
Captain Fireball, Lieutenant Buffcoat, and Ensign Steele, were 
repeatedly sending warning letters to landlords, and murdering 
them if the notes were unattended to. The celebrated Captain 
Thunder ruled in the southern counties, and his business seemed 
to be to procure wives for gentlemen who had not sufficient 
means to please the parents of the young ladies ; or, perhaps, 
had not time for a long and intricate courtship. 

I had found my cousin Ulick at Dublin, grown very fat, and 
very poor; hunted up by Jews and creditors ; dwelling in all 
sorts of queer corners, from which he issued at nightfall to the 
Castle, or to his card-party at his tavern ; but he was always 
the courageous fellow : and I hinted to him the state of my 
affections regarding Lady Lyndon. 

“The Countess of Lyndon!” said poor Ulick; “well, that 
is a wonder. I myself have been mightily sweet upon a young 
lady, one of the Kiljoys of Ballyhack, who has ten thousand 
pounds to her fortune, and to whom her ladyship is guardian ; 
but how is a poor fellow without a coat to his back to get on 
with an heiress in such company as that? I might as well 
propose for the countess myself.” 


BARRY LYNDON, 1C SO. 


lS5 

“ You had better not,” said I, laughing ; “ the man who tries 
runs a chance -of going out of the world first.” And I explained 
to him my own intention regarding Lady Lyndon. Honest 
Ulick, whose respect for me was prodigious when he saw how 
splendid my appearance was, and heard how wonderful my 
adventures and great my experience of fashionable life had been, 
was lost in admiration of my daring and energy, when I confided 
to him my intention of marrying the greatest heiress in England. 

I bade Ulick go out of town on any pretext he chose, and 
put a letter into a post-office near Castle Lyndon, which I 
prepared -in a feigned hand, and in which I gave a solemn 
warning to Lord George Poynings to quit the country ; saying 
that the great prize was never meant for the likes of him, and 
that there were heiresses enough in England, without coming 
to rob them out of the domains of Captain Fireball. The letter 
was written on a dirty piece of paper, in the worst of spelling : 
it came to my lord by the post-conveyance, and, being a high- 
spirited young man, he of course laughed at it. 

As ill-luck would have it for him, he appeared in Dublin a 
very short time afterwards ; was introduced to the Chevalier 
Redmond Barry, at the Lord Lieutenant’s table ; adjourned 
with him and several other gentlemen to the club at “ Daly’s,” 
and there, in a dispute about the pedigree of a horse, in which 
everybody said I was in the right, words arose, and a meeting 
was the consequence. I had had no affair in Dublin since my 
arrival, and people were anxious to see whether I was equal to 
my reputation. I make no boast about these matters, but 
always do them when the time comes ; and poor Lord George, 
who had a neat hand and a quick eye enough, but was bred in 
the clumsy English school, only stood before my point until I 
had determined where I should hit him. 

My sword went in under his guard, and came out at his 
back. When he fell, he good-naturedly extended his hand to 
me, and said, “Mr. Barry, I 7vas wrong!” I felt not very 
well at ease when the poor fellow made this confession ; for the 
dispute had been of my making, and, to tell 'the truth, I had 
never intended it should end in any other way than a meeting. 

He lay on his bed for four months with the effects of that 
wound.; and the same post which conveyed to Lady Lyndon 
the news of the duel, carried her a message from Captain 
Fireball to say, “ This is number one ! ” 

“You, Ulick,” said I, “shall be number two.” 

“ ’Faith,” said my cousin, “ one’s enough ! ” But I had my 
plan regarding him, and determined at once to benefit this 
honest fellow, and to forward my own designs upon the widow. 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


1 86 


CHAPTER XV. 

I PAY COURT TO MY LADY LYNDON. 

As my uncle's attainder was not reversed for being out with 
the Pretender in 1745, it would have been inconvenient for him 
to accompany his nephew to the land of our ancestors ; where, 
if not hanging, at least a tedious process of imprisonment, and 
a doubtful pardon, would have awaited the good old gentleman 
In any important crisis of my life, his advice was always of im 
portance to me, and I did not fail to seek it at this juncture, 
and to implore his counsel as regarded my pursuit of the widow. 
I told him the situation of her heart, as I have described it in 
the last chapter ; of the progress that young Poynings had 
made in her affections, and of her forgetfulness of her old 
admirer ; and I got a letter, in reply, full of excellent sugges- 
tions, by which 1 did not fail to profit. 

The kind chevalier prefaced it by saying, that he was for 
the present boarding in the Minorite convent at Brussels; that 
he had thoughts of making his salut there, and retiring forever 
from the world, devoting himself to the severest practices of 
religion. Meanwhile he wrote with regard to the lovely widow : 
it was natural that a person of her vast wealth and not disagreea- 
ble person should have many adorers about her ; and that, as 
in her husband’s lifetime she had shown herself not at all dis- 
inclined to receive my addresses, I must make no manner of 
doubt I was not the first person whom she had so favored ; 
nor was I likely to be the last. 

“ I would, my dear child,” he added, “ that the ugly attainder 
round my neck, and the resolution I have formed of retiring 
from a world of sin and vanity altogether, did not prevent me 
from coming personally to your aid in this delicate crisis of your 
affairs ; for, to lead them to a good end, it requires not only 
the indomitable courage, swagger, and audacity, which you 
possess beyond any young man I have ever known ” (as for the 
“ swagger,” as the chevalier calls it, I deny it in toto , being 
always most modest in my demeanor) ; “ but though you have 
the vigor to execute, you have not the ingenuity to suggest 
plans of conduct for the following out of a scheme that is likely 
to be long and difficult of execution. Would you have ever 


BARR V L YNDON, ESQ. 


i8 7 

thought of the brilliant scheme of the Countess Ida, which so 
nearly made you the greatest fortune in Europe, but for the 
advice and experience of a poor old man, now making up his 
accounts with the world, and about to retire from it for good 
and all ? 

“ Well, with regard to the Countess of Lyndon, your man- 
ner of winning her is quite en Vair at present to me ; nor can I 
advise day by day, as I would I could, according to circum- 
stances as they arise. But your general scheme should be this. 
If I remember the letters you used to have from her during the 
period of the correspondence which the silly woman entertained 
you with, much high-flown sentiment passed between you ; and 
especially was written by her ladyship herself ; she is a blue- 
stocking, and fond of writing ; she used to make her griefs 
with her husband the continual theme of her correspondence 
(as women will do). I recollect several passages in her letters 
bitterly deploring her fate in being united to one so unworthy 
of her. 

“ Surely, in the mass of billets you possess from her, there 
must be enough to compromise her. Look them well over, 
select passages, and threaten to do so. Write to her at first in 
the undoubting tone of a lover who has every claim upon her. 
Then, if she is silent, remonstrate alluding, to former prom- 
ises from her ; producing proofs of her former regard for you ; 
vowing despair, destruction, revenge, if she prove unfaithful. 
Frighten her — astonish her by some daring feat, which will let 
her see your indomitable resolution : you are the man to do it. 
Your sword has a reputation in Europe, and you have a 
character for boldness ; which was the first thing that caused 
my Lady Lyndon to turn her eyes upon you. Make the people 
talk about you at Dublin. Be as splendid, and as brave, and as 
odd as possible. How I wish I were near you ! You have no 
imagination to invent such a character as I would make for you 
• — but why speak ; have I not enough of the world and its 
vanities ? ” 

There was much practical good sense in this advice ; which 
I quote, unaccompanied with the lengthened description of his 
mortifications and devotions which my uncle indulged in, finish- 
ing his letter, as usual, with earnest prayers for my conversion 
to the true faith. But he was constant to his form of worship ; 
and I, as a man of honor and principle, was resolute to mine ; 
and have no doubt that the one, in this respect, will be as 
acceptable as the other. 


i88 


TIIE MEMOIRS OF 


Under these directions it was, then, I wrote to Lady Lyndon 
to ask on my arrival when the most respectful of her admirers 
might be permitted to intrude upon her grief ? Then, as hei 
ladyship was silent, I demanded, Had she forgotten old times, 
and one whom she had favored with her intimacy at a very 
happy period ? Had Calista forgotten Eugenio ? At the same 
time I sent down by my servant with this letter a present of a 
little sword for Lord Bullingdon, and a private note to his gov- 
ernor : whose note of hand, by the way, I possessed for a sum 
— I forgot what — but such as the poor fellow would have been 
very unwilling to pay. To this an answer came from her lady- 
ship’s amanuensis, stating that Lady Lyndon was too much dis- 
turbed by grief at her recent dreadful calamity to see any one 
but her own relations ; and advices from my friend, the boy’s 
governor, stating that my Lord George Poynings was the young 
kinsman who was about to console her. 

This caused the quarrel between me and the young nobleman; 
whom I took care to challenge on his first arrival at Dublin. 

When the news of the duel was brought to the widow at 
Castle Lyndon, my informant wrote me that Lady Lyndon 
shrieked and flung down the journal, and said, “ The horrible 
monster ! He would not shrink from murder I believe ; ” and 
little Lord Bullingdon, drawing his sword — the sword I had 
given him, the rascal ! — declared he would kill with it the man 
who had hurt cousin George. On Mr. Runt telling him that I 
was the donor of the weapon, the little rogue still vowed th^t he 
would kill me all the same! Indeed, in spite of my kindness 
to him, that boy always seemed to detest me. 

Her ladyship sent up daily couriers to inquire after the 
health of Lord George ; and, thinking to myself that she would 
probably be induced to come to Dublin if she were to hear that 
he was in danger, I managed to have her informed that he was 
in a precarious state ; that he grew worse ; that Redmond Barry 
had fled in consequence : of this flight I caused the Mercury 
newspaper to give notice also, but indeed it did not carry me 
beyond the town of Bray, where my poor mother dwelt ; and 
where, under the difficulties of a duel, I might be sure of having 
a welcome. 

Those readers who have the sentiment of filial duty strong 
in their mind, will wonder that I have not yet described my in- 
terview with that kind mother whose sacrifices for me in youth 
had been so considerable, and for whom a man of my warm and 
affectionate nature could not but feel the most enduring and 
sincere regard. 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ, 


189 

But a man, moving in the exalted sphere of society in which 
I now stood, has his public duties to perform before he con- 
sults his private affections ; and so upon my first arrival I de- 
spatched a messenger to Mrs. Barry, stating my arrival, convey- 
ing to her my sentiments of respect and duty, and promising to 
pay them to her personally so soon as my business in Dublin 
would leave me free. 

This, I need not say, was very considerable. I had my 
horses to buy, my establishment to arrange, my entree into the 
genteel world to make ; and, having announced my intention 
to purchase horses and live in a genteel style, was 111 a couple 
of days so pestered by visits of the nobility and gentry, and so 
hampered by invitations to dinners and suppers, that it became 
exceedingly difficult for me during some days to manage my 
anxiously desired visit to Mrs. Barry. 

It appears that the good soul provided an entertainment as 
soon £& she heard of my arrival, and invited all her humble ac- 
quaintances of Bray to be present ; but I was engaged subse- 
quently to my Lord Ballyragget on the day appointed, and was, 
of course, obliged to break the promise that I had made to Mrs. 
Barry to attend her humble festival. 

I endeavored to sweeten the disappointment by sending my 
mother a handsome satin sack and velvet robe, which I pur- 
chased for her at the best mercers in Dublin (and indeed told 
her I had brought from Paris expressly for her) ; but the mes- 
senger whom I despatched with the presents brought back the 
pafcels, with the piece of satin torn half way up the middle : 
and I did not need his descriptions to be aware that something 
had offended the good lady ; who came out, he said, and abused 
him at the door, and would have boxed his ears, but that she 
was restrained by a gentleman in black : who I concluded, with 
justice, was her clerical friend Mr. Jowls. 

This reception of my presents made me rather dread than 
hope for an interview with Mrs. Barry, and delayed my visit 
to her for some days further. I wrote her a dutiful and sooth- 
ing letter, to which there was no answer returned ; although I 
mentioned that on my way to the capital I had been at Barry- 
ville, and revisited the old haunts of my youth. 

I don’t care to own that she is the only human being whom 
I am afraid to face. I can recollect her fits of anger as a child, 
and the reconciliations, which used to be still more violent and 
painful ; and so, instead of going myself, I sent my factotum, 
Ulick Brady, to her ; who rode back, saying that he had met 
With a reception he would not again undergo for twenty guineas ; 


190 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


that he hacl been dismissed the house, with strict injunctions to 
inform me that my mother disowned me forever. This parental 
anathema, as it were, affected me much, for I was always the 
most dutiful of sons ; and I determined to go as soon as pos- 
sible, and brave what I knew must be an inevitable scene of 
reproach and anger, for the sake, as I hoped, of as certain a 
reconciliation. 

I had been giving one night an entertainment to some of the 
genteelest company in Dublin, and was showing my lord mar- 
quis down stairs with a pair of wax tapers, when I found a 
woman in a gray coat seated at my door-steps ; to whom, taking 
her for a beggar, I tendered a piece of money, and whom my 
noble friends, who were rather hot with wine, began to joke, as 
my door closed and I bade them all good-night. 

I was rather surprised and affected to find afterwards that 
the hooded woman was no other than my mother ; whose pride 
had made her vow that she would not enter my do<&s, but 
whose natural maternal yearnings had made her long to see her 
son’s face once again, and who had thus planted herself in dis- 
guise at my gate. Indeed, .1 have found in my experience that 
these are the only women who never deceive a man* and whose 
affection remains constant through all trials. Think of the 
hours that the kind soul must have passed, lonely in the street, 
listening to the din and merriment within my apartments, the 
clinking of the glasses, the laughing, the choruses, and the 
cheering. 

When my affair with Lord George happened, and it becJme 
necessary to me, for the reasons I have stated, to be out of the 
way ; now, thought I, is the time to make my peace with my 
good mother : she will never refuse me an asylum now that I 
seem in distress. So sending to her a notice that I was coming, 
that I had had a duel which had brought me into trouble, and 
required I should go into hiding, I followed my messenger half 
an hour afterwards : and, I warrant me, there was no want of a 
good reception, for presently, being introduced into an empty 
room by the barefooted maid who waited upon Mrs. Barry, the 
door was opened, and the poor mother flung herself into my 
arms with a scream, and with transports of joy which 1 shall 
not attempt to describe — they are but to be comprehended by 
women who have held in their arms an only child after a twelve 
years’ absence from him. 

The Reverend Mr. Jowls, my mother’s director, was the 
only person to whom the door of her habitation was opened 
during my sojourn ; and he would take no denial. He mixed 


/IAEA' V L YNDONy ESQ. i g i 

for himself a glass of rum-punch, which he seemed in the habit 
of drinking at my good mother’s charge, groaned aloud, and 
forthwith began reading me a lecture upon the sinfulness of my 
past courses, and especially of the last horrible action I had 
been committing. 

“ Sinful ! ” said my mother, bristling up when her son was 
attacked; “ sure we’re all sinners; and it’s you, Mr. Jowls, 
who have given me the inexpressible blessing to let me know 
that. But how # else would you have had the poor child behave ? ” 

“ I would have had the gentleman avoid the drink, and the 
quarrel, and this wicked duel altogether,’.’ answered the clergy- 
man. 

But my mother cut him short, by saying such sort of con- 
duct might be very well in a person of his cloth and his birth, 
but it neither became a Brady nor a Barry. In fact, she was 
quite delighted with the thought that I had pinked an English 
marquis’s son in a duel ; and so, to console her, I told her of a 
score more in which I had been engaged, and of some of which 
I have already informed the reader. 

As my late antagonist was in no sort of danger when I 
spread that report of his perilous situation, there was no partic- 
ular call that my hiding should be very close. But the widow 
did not know the fact as well as I did ; and caused her house 
to be barricaded, and Becky, her barefooted serving-wench, to 
be a perpetual sentinel to give alarm, lest the officers should be 
in search of me. 

The only person I expected, however, was my cousin Ulick, 
who was to bring me the welcome intelligence of Lady Lyndon’s 
arrival ; and I own, after two days’ close confinement at Bray, 
in which I narrated all the adventures of my life to my mother, 
and succeeded in making her accept the dresses she had formerly 
refused, and a considerable addition to her income which I was 
glad to make, I was very glad when I saw that reprobate Ulick 
Brady, as my mother called him, ride up to the door in my car- 
riage with the welcome intelligence for my mother, that the 
young lord was out of danger, and for me, that the Countess of 
Lyndon had arrived in Dublin. 

“ And I wish, Redmond, that the young gentleman had been 
in danger a little longer,” said the widow, her eyes filling with 
tears, “ and you’d have stayed so much the more with your poor 
old mother.” But I dried her tears, embracing her warmly, 
and promised to see her often ; and hinted I would have, may- 
hap, a house of my own and a noble daughter to welcome her. 

“ Who is she, Redmond dear ? ” said the old lady. 


192 


TJIE MEMOIRS OF 


“ One of the noblest and richest women in. the empire, 
mother,” answered I. “No mere Brady this time,” T added, 
laughing : with which hopes I left Mrs. Barry in the best of 
tempers. 

No man can bear less malice than I do ; and, when I have 
once carried my point, I am one of the most placable creatures 
in- the world. I was a week in Dublin before I though t it 
necessary to quit that capital. I had become qpite reconciled 
to my rival in that time; made a point of calling at his lodg- 
ings, and speedily became an intimate consoler of his bedside. 
He had a gentleman to whom I did not neglect to be civil, and 
towards whom I ordered my people to be particular in their at- 
tentions ; for I was naturally anxious to learn what my Lord 
George’s position with the lady of Castle Lyndon had really 
been, whether other suitors were about the widow, and how she 
would bear the news of his wound. 

The young nobleman himself enlightened me somewhat 
upon the subjects I was most desirous to inquire into. 

“Chevalier,” said he to me, one morning when I went to 
pay him my compliments, “ I find you are an old acquaintance 
with my kinswoman, the Countess of Lyndon. She writes me 
a page of abuse of you in a letter here ; and the strange part of 
the story is this, that one day when there was talk about you at 
Castle Lyndon, and the splendid equipage you were exhibiting 
in Dublin, the fair widow vowed and protested she never had 
heard of you. 

“ ‘ O yes, mamma, 1 said the little Bullingdon, 1 the tall dark 
man at Spa with the cast in his eye, who used to make my gov- 
ernor tipsy and sent me the sword : his name is Mr. Barry.’ 

“ But my lady ordered the boy out of the room, and per- 
sisted in krrowing nothing about you.” 

“ And arc you a kinsman and acquaintance of my Lady 
Lyndon, my lord ?’ said I, in a tone of grave surprise. 

“Yes, indeed,” answered the young gentleman. “ I left her 
house but to get this ugly wound from you. And it came at a 
most unlucky time too.” 

“ Why more unlucky now than at another moment ? ” 

“ Why, look you. chevalier. I think the widow was not im- 
partial to me. I think I might have induced her to make ouf 
connection a little closer : and faith, though she is older than 
I am, she is the richest party now in England.” 

“ My Lord George,” said I, “ will you let me ask you a frank 
but an odd question ? — will you show me her letters? ” 

“ Indeed I’ll do no such a thing,” replied he, in a rage. 


BARRY L YNDON. ESQ. 


*93 

“Nay, don’t be angry. If / show you letters of Lady 
Lyndon's to me, will you let me see hers to you ? ” 

“What, in heaven’s name, do you mean, Mr. Barry?” said 
the young nobleman. 

“/mean, that I passionately loved Lady Lyndon. I mean 

that I am a that 1 rather was not indifferent to her. I 

mean that I love her to distraction at this present moment, and 
will die myself or kill the man who possesses her before me.” 

“ You marry the greatest heiress and the noblest blood in 
England?” said Lord George haughtily. 

“ There’s no nobler blood in Europe than mine,” answered 
I ; “and I tell you I don’t know whether to hope or not. But 
this I know, that there were days in which, poor as I am, the 
great heiress did not disdain to look down upon my poverty ; 
and that any man who marries her passes over my dead body 
to do it. It’s lucky for you,” I added, gloomily, “that on the 
occasion of my engagement with you, I did not know what were 
your views regarding my Lady Lyndon. My poor boy, you are • 
a lad of courage, and I love you. Mine is the first sword in 
Europe, and you would have been lying in a narrower bed than 
that you now occupy.” 

“ Boy ! ” said Lord George, “ I am not four years younger 
than you are.” 

“ You are forty years younger than I am in experience. I 
have passed through every grade of life. With my own skill 
and daring I have made my own fortune. I have been in four- 
teen pitched battles as a private soldier, and have been twenty- 
three times on the ground, and never was touched but once ; 
and that was by the sword of a French maitre-d 'armes, whom I 
killed. I started in life at seventeen, a beggar, and am now at 
seven-and-twenty, with 20,000 guineas. Do you suppose a man 
of my courage and energy. can’t attain anything that he dares, 
and that having claims upon the widow, I will not press them ? ” 

This speech was not exactly true to the letter (for I had 
multiplied my pitched battles, my duels, and my wealth some- 
what) ; but I saw that it made the impression I desired to 
effect upon the young gentleman’s 'mind, who listened to my 
statement with peculiar seriousness, and whom I presently left 
to digest it. 

A couple of days afterwards I called to see him again, when 
I brought with me some of the letters that had passed between 
me and my Lady Lyndon. “ Here,” said I, “ look — I show it 
you in confidence — it is a lock of her ladyship’s hair ; here are 
her letters signed Calista, and addressed to Eugenio. Here is 

*3 


i 9 4 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


a poem, * When Sol bedecks the mead with light, And pallid 
Cynthia sheds her ray,’ addressed by her ladyship to your 
humble servant.” 

“ Calista ! Eugenio 1 Sol bedecks the mead with light ? ” 
cried the young lord. 44 Am I dreaming ? Why, my dear 
Barry, the widow has sent me the very poem herself ! 4 Rejoic- 

ing in the sunshine bright, Or musing in the evening gray.’ ” 

I could not help laughing as he made the quotation. They 
were, in fact, the very words my Calista had addressed to me. 
And we found, upon comparing letters, that whole passages of 
eloquence figured in the one correspondence which appeared 
in the other. See what it is to be a blue-stocking and have a 
love of letter-writing ! 

The young man put down the papers in great perturbation. 

“ Well, thank heaven ! ” said he, after a pause of some dura- 
tion,— ?“ thank heaven, for a good riddance ! Ah, Mr. Barry, 
what a woman I might have married had these lucky papers 
not come in my way ! I thought my Lady Lyndon had a heart, 
sir, I must confess, though not a very warm one ; and that, at 
least, one could trust her. But marry her now ! I would as 
lief send my servant into the street to get me a wife, as put up 
with such an Ephesian matron as that.” 

“ My Lord George,” said I, “ you little know the world. 
Remember what a bad husband Lady Lyndon had, and don’t 
be astonished that she, on her side, should be indifferent. Nor 
has she, I will dare to wager, ever passed beyond the bounds 
of harmless gallantry, or sinned beyond the composing of a son- 
net or a billet-doux.” 

44 My wife,” said the little lord, 44 shall write no sonnets or 
billets-doux ; and I’m heartily glad to think I have obtained, in 
good time, a knowledge of the heartless vixen with whom 1 
thought myself for a moment in love.” 

The wounded young nobleman was either, as I have said, 
very young and green in matters of the world — for to suppose 
that a man would give up forty thousand a year, because, for- 
sooth, the lady connected with it had written a few sentimental 
letters to a young fellow, ii too absurd — or, as I am inclined to 
believe, he was glad of an excuse to quit the field altogether, 
being by no means anxious to meet the victorious sword of 
Redmond Barry a second time. 

When the idea of Poynings’ danger, or the reproaches prob- 
ably addressed by him to the widow regarding myself, had 
brought this exceedingly weak and feeble woman up to Dublin, 
as I expected, and my worthy Click had informed me of her 


KARR V LYNDO\\ ESQ. 


*95 


arrival, I quitted my good mother, who was quite reconciled to 
me (indeed the duel had done that), and found the disconsolate 
Calista was in the habit of paying visits to the wounded swain ; 
much to the annoyance, the servants told me, of that gentle- 
man. The English are often absurdly high and haughty upon 
a point of punctilio ; and, after his kinswoman’s conduct, Lord 
Poynings swore he would have n© more to do with her. 

I had this information from his lordship’s gentleman ; with 
whom, as I have said, I took particular care to be friends ; nor 
was I denied admission by his porter, when I chose to call, as 
before. 

Her ladyship had most likely bribed that person, as I had ; 
for she had found her way up, though denied admission : and, 
in fact, I had watched her from her own house to Lord George 
Poynings’ lodgings, and seen her descend from her chair there 
and enter, before I myself followed her. I proposed to await 
her quietly in the ante-room, to make a scene there, and re- 
proach her with infidelity, if necessary ; but matters were, as it 
happened, arranged much more conveniently for me, and walk- 
ing, unannounced, into the outer room of his lordship’s apart- 
ments, I had the felicity of hearing in the next chamber, of 
which the door was partially open, the voice of my Calista. 
She was in full cry, appealing to the poor patient, as he lay 
confined in his bed, and speaking in the most passionate man- 
ner. “ What can lead you, George,” she said, “ to doubt of 
my faith ? Plow can you break my heart by casting me off in 
this monstrous manner ? Do you wish to drive your poor Cal- 
ista to the grave ? Well, well, I shall join there the dear 
departed angel.” 

“ Who entered it three months since,” said Lord George, 
with a sneer. “ It’s a wonder you have survived so long.” 

“ Don’t treat your poor Calista in this cruel, cruel manner, 
Antonio ! ” cried the widow. 

“ Bah ! ” said Lord George, “ my wound is bad. My doc> 
tors forbid me much talk. Suppose your Antonio tired, my 
dear. Can’t you console yourself with somebody else ? ” 

“ Heavens, Lord George ! Antonio ! ” 

“ Console yourself with Eugenio,” said the young noble- 
man, bitterly, and began ringing his bell ; on which his valet, 
who was in an inner room, came out, and he bade him show 
her ladyship down stairs. 

Lady Lyndon issued from the room in the greatest flurry. 
She was dressed in deep weeds, with a veil over her face, and 
did not recognize the person waiting in the outer apartment 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


196 

As she went down the stairs, I stepped lightly after her, and 
as her chairman opened her door, sprung forward, and took 
her hand to place her in the vehicle. “ Dearest widow,” said 
I, “ his lordship spoke correctly. Console yourself with Eu- 
genio ! ” She was too frightened even to scream, as her chair- 
man carried her away. She was set down at her house, and 
you may be sure that I was afr the chair-door, as before, to help 
her out. 

“ Monstrous man ! ” said she, “ I desire you to leave me.” 

“ Madam, it would be against my oath,” replied I ; “ rec- 
ollect the vow Eugenio sent to Calista.” 

“ If you do not quit me, I will call for the domestics to turn 
you from the door.” 

“ What 1 when I am come with my Calista’s letters in my 
pocket, to return them mayhap? You can soothe, madam, 
but you cannot frighten Redmond Barry.” 

“ What is it you would have of me, sir ? ” said the widow, 
rather agitated. 

“ Let me come up stairs, and I will tell you all,” I replied ; 
and she condescended to give me her hand, and to permit me 
to lead her from her chair to her drawing-room. 

When we were alone I opened my mind honorably to 
her. 

“ Dearest madam,” said I, “ do not let your cruelty drive a 
desperate slave to fatal measures. I adore you. In former 
days you allowed me to whisper my passion to you unrestrained ; 
at present you drive me from your door, leave my letters un- 
answered, and prefer another to me. My flesh and blood 
cannot bear such treatment. Look upon the punishment I 
have been obliged to inflict ; tremble at that which I may be 
compelled to administer to that unfortunate young man : so 
sure as he marries you, madam, he dies.” 

“ I do not recognize,” said the widow, “ the least right you 
have to give the law to the Countess of Lyndon : I do not in 
the least understand your threats, or heed them. What has 
passed between me and an Irish adventurer that should au- 
thorize this impertinent intrusion ? ” 

“ These have passed, madam,” said I, — “ Calista’s letters to 
Eugenio. They may have been very innocent ; but will the 
world believe it ? You may have only intended to play with the 
heart of the poor artless Irish gentleman who adored and con- 
fided in you. But who will believe the stories # of your inno- 
cence against the irrefragable testimony of your own hand- 
writing ? Who will believe that you could write these letters 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


'17 

in the mere wantonness of coquetry, and not under the influ- 
ence of affection ? ” 

“ Villain ! ” cried my Lady Lyndon, “ could you dare to con- 
strue out of those idle letters of mine any other meaning than 
that which they really bear ? ” 

“ I will construe anything out of them,” said I ; “such is 
the passion which animates me towards you. I have sworn it— 
you must and shall be mine ! Did you ever know me promise 
to accomplish a thing and fail ? Which will you prefer to have 
from me — a love such as woman never knew from man before, 
or a hatred to which there exists no parallel ? ” 

“ A woman of my rank, sir, can fear nothing from the 
hatred of an adventurer like yourself,” replied the lady, draw- 
ing up stately. 

“ Look at your Poynings — was he of your rank ? You are 
the cause of that young man’s wound, madam ; and, but that 
the instrument of your savage cruelty relented, would have been 
the author of his murder — yes, of his murder ; for, if a wife is 
faithless, does not she arm the husband who punishes the 
seducer ? And I look upon you, Honoria Lyndon, as my 
wife.” 

“ Husband ! wife, sir ! ” cried the widow, quite astonished. 

“ Yes, wife ! husband ! 1 am not one of those poor souls 

with whom coquettes can play, and who may afterwards throw 
» them aside. You would forget what passed between us at Spa : 
Calista would forget Eugenio ; but I will not let you forget me. 
You thought to trifle with my heart, did you ? When once 
moved, Honoria, it is moved for ever. I love you — love as 
passionately now as I did when my passion was hopeless; and, 
now that I can win you, do you think I will forego you ? Cruel, 
cruel Calista ! you little know the power of your own charms if 
you think their effect is so easily obliterated — you little know 
the constancy of this pure and noble heart if you think that, 
having once loved, it can ever cease to adore you. No ! I 
swear by your cruelty that I will revenge it ; by your wonderful 
beauty that I will win it, and be worthy to win it. Lovely, 
fascinating, fickle, cruel woman ! you shall be mine — I swear 
it! Your wealth maybe great; but am I not of a generous 
nature enough to use it worthily ? Your rank is lofty ; but not 
so lofty as my ambition. You threw yourself away once on a 
cold and spiritless debauchee ; give yourself now, Honoria, to 
a man; apd one who, however lofty your rank may be, will en- 
hance it and become it ! ” 

As I poured words to this effect out on the astonished widow, 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


198 

I stood over her, and fascinated her with the glance of my eye ; 
saw her turn red and pale with fear and wonder ; saw that my 
praise of her charms and the exposition of my passion were not 
unwelcome to her, and witnessed with triumphant composure the 
mastery I was gaining over her. Terror, be sure of that, is not 
a bad ingredient of love. A man who wills fiercely to win the 
heart of a weak and vaporish woman ?nust succeed, if he have 
opportunity enough. 

“ Terrible man ! ” said Lady Lyndon, shrinking from me as 
soon as I had done speaking (indeed, I was at a loss for words, 
and thinking of another speech to make to her) — “ terrible man ! 
leave me.” 

I saw that I had made an impression on her, from those 
very words. “ If she lets me into the house to-morrow/’ said I, 

“ she is mine.” 

As I went down stairs I put ten guineas into the hand of 
the hall-porter, who looked quite astonished at such a gift. 

“ It is to repay you for the trouble of opening the door to . 
me,” said I • “ you will have to do so often.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 

I PROVIDE NOBLY FOR MY FAMILY AND ATTAIN THE HEIGHT OF 
MY (SEEMING) GOOD FORTUNE. 

The next day when I went back, my fears were realized ; the 
door was refused to me — my lady was not at home. This I 
Jcnew to be false ; I had watched the door the whole morning 
from a lodging I took at a house opposite. 

“Your lady is not out,” said I ; “she has denied me, and I 
can’t, of course, force my way to her. But listen : you are an 
Englishman ? ” 

“That I am,” said the fellow, with an air of the utmost 
superiority. “Your honor could tell that by my haccent.” 

I knew he was, and might therefore offer him a bribe. An 
Irish family servant in rags, and though his wages were never 
paid him, would probably fling the money in your face. 

“ Listen, then,” said I. “Your lady’s letters pass through 
your hands, don’t they ? A crown for every one that you bring 
me to read. There is a whiskey-shop in the next street ; bring 


BARRY.- LYNDON, ESQ. 


199 


them there when you go to drink, and call for me by the name 
of Dermot.” 

“ I recollect your honor at Spar” says the fellow, grinning ; 
“ seven’s the main, heh ? ” and, being exceedingly proud of this 
reminiscence, I bade my inferior adieu. 

I do not defend this practice of letter-opening in private life, 
except in cases of the most urgent necessity ; when we must 
follow the examples of our betters, the statesmen of all Europe, 
and, for the sake o.f a. great good, infringe a little matter of 
ceremony. My Lady Lyndon’s letters were none the worse for 
being opened, and a great deal the better ; the knowledge 
obtained from the perusal of some of her multifarious epistles 
enabling me to become intimate with her character in a hundred 
ways, and obtain a power over her by which I was not slow to 
profit. By the aid of the letters and of my English friend, whom 
I always regaled with the best of liquor, and satisfied with 
presents of money still more agreeable (I used- to put on a livery 
in order to meet him, and a red wig, in which it was impossible 
to know the dashing and elegant Redmond Barry), I got such 
an insight into the widow’s movements as astonished her. I 
knew beforehand to what public places she would go ; they 
were, on account of her widowhood, but few ; and wherever she 
appeared, at church or in the park, I was always ready to offer 
her her book, or to canter on horseback by the side of her 
chariot. 

Many of her ladyship’s letters were the most whimsical rodo- 
montades that ever blue-stocking penned. She was a woman 
who took up and threw off a greater number of dear friends 
than any one I ever knew. To some of these female darlings 
she began presently to write about my unworthy self, and it 
was with a sentiment of extreme satisfaction I found at length 
that the widow was growing dreadfully afraid of me ; calling me 
her bete noire , her dark spirit, her murderous adorer, and a 
thousand other names indicative of her extreme disquietude and 
terror. It was : “ The wretch has been dogging my chariot 
through the park,” or, “ my fate pursued me at church.” and 
“ my inevitable adorer handed me out of my chair at the 
mercer’s,” or what not. My wish was to increase this sentiment 
of awe in her bosom, and to make her believe that I was a per- 
son from whom escape was impossible. 

To this end I bribed a fortune-teller, whom she consulted 
along with a number of the most foolish and distinguished people 
of Dublin, in those days ; and who, although she went dressed 
like one of her waiting-women, did not fail to recognize her real 


2 00 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


rank, and to describe as her future husband her persevering 
adorer Redmond Barry, Esq. This incident disturbed her very 
much. She wrote about it in terms of great wonder and terror 
to her female correspondents. “ Can this monster,” she wrote, 
“ indeed do as he boasts, and bend even Fate to his will ? — can 
he make me marry him though I cordially detest him, and bring 
me a slave to his feet? The horrid look 'of his black seqoent- 
like eyes fascinates and frightens me : it seems to follow me 
everywhere, and even when I close my own eyes, the dreadful 
gaze penetrates the lids, and is still upon me.” 

When a woman begins to talk of a man in this way, he is an 
ass who does not win her ; and, for my part, 1 used to follow her 
about, and put myself in an attitude opposite her, “ and fascinate 
her with my glance,” as she said, most assiduously. Lord George 
Poynings, her former admirer, was meanwhile keeping his room 
with his wound, and had seemed determined to give up all claims 
to her favor ; for he denied her admittance when she called, sent no 
answer to her multiplied correspondence, and contented himself 
by saying generally, that the surgeon had forbidden him to receive 
visitors or to answer letters. Thus, while he went into the back 
ground, I came forward, and took good care that no other rivals 
should present themselves with any chance of success ; for as 
soon I heard of one, I had a quarrel fastened on him, and, in this 
way, pinked two more, besides my first victim Lord George. I 
always took another pretext for quarrelling with them than the 
real one of attention to Lady Lyndon, so that no scandal or 
hurt to her ladyship’s feelings might arise in consequence ; but 
she very well knew what was the meaning of these duels : and 
the young fellows of Dublin, too, by laying two and two together 
begaif to perceive that there was a certain dragon in watch for 
the wealthy heiress, and that the dragon must be subdued first 
before they could get at the lady. I warrant that, after the first 
three, not many champions were found to address the lady ; 
and have often laughed (in my sleeve) to see many of the young 
Dublin beaux riding by the side of her carriage scamper off as 
soon as my bay-mare and green liveries made their appearance. 

I wanted to impress her with some great and awful instance 
of my power, and to this end had determined to confer a great 
benefit upon my honest cousin Ulick, and carry off for him the 
object of his affections, Miss Kiljoy, under the very eyes of her 
guardian and friend, Lady Lyndon ; and in the teeth of the 
squires, the young lady’s brothers, who passed the season at 
Dublin, and made as much swagger and to-do about their sister’s 
10,000 /. Irish, as if she had had a plum to her fortune. The 


BAKR V L YNDOM ESQ. 


?oi 


girl was by no means averse lo Mr. Brady ; and it only shows 
how faint-spirited some men are, and how a superior genius 
can instantly overcome difficulties which, to common minds, 
seem insuperable, that he never had thought of running off with 
her : as I at once and boldly did. Miss Kiljoy had been a 
ward in Chancery until she attained her majority (before which 
period it would have been a dangerous matter for me to put in 
execution the scheme I meditated concerning her) ; but, though 
now free to marry whom she liked, she was a young lady of 
timid disposition, and as much under fear of her brothers and 
relatives as though she had not been independent of them. 
'They had some friend of their own in view for the young lady, 
and had scornfully rejected the proposal of Ulick Brady, the 
ruined gentleman ; who was quite unworthy, as these rustic 
bucks thought, of the hand of such a prodigiously wealthy heiress 
as their sister. 

Finding herself lonely in her great house in Dublin, the 
Countess of Lyndon invited her friend Miss Amelia to pass the 
season with her at Dublin ; and, in a fit of maternal fondness, 
also sent for her son, the little Bullingdon, and my old ac- 
quaintance his governor, to come to the capital and bear her 
company. A family coach brought the boy, the heiress, and* the 
tutor from Castle Lyndon ; and I determined to take the first 
opportunity of putting my plan in execution. 

For this chance 1 had not very long to wait I have said, in 
a former chapter of my biography, that the kingdom of Ireland 
was at this period ravaged by various parties of banditti ; who 
under the name of Whiteboys, Oakboys, Steelboys, with captains 
at their head, killed proctors, fired stacks, houghed and maimed 
cattle, and took the law into their own hands. One of these 
bands, or several of them for what I know, was commanded by 
a mysterious personage called Captain Thunder ; whose business 
seemed to be that of marrying people with or without their own 
consent, or that of their parents. The Dublin Gazettes and 
Mereuries of that period (the year 1772) teem with proclama- 
tions from the Lord Lieutenant, offering rewards for the ap- 
prehension of this dreadful Captain Thunder and his gang, and 
describing at length various exploits of the savage aide-de-camp 
of Hymen. I determined to make use, if not of the services, at 
any rate of the name of Captain Thunder, and put my cousin 
Ulick in possession of his lady and her ten thousand pounds. 
She was no great beauty, and, I presume, it was the money he 
loved rather than the owner of it. 

On account cf her widowhood. Ladv Lvndon could not as 


202 


THE MEMOIRS OE 


yet frequent the balls and routs which the hospitable nobility of 
Dublin were in the custom of giving ; but her friend Miss Kiljoy 
had ho such cause for retirement, and was glad to attend any 
parties to which she might be invited. I made Ulick Brady a 
present of a couple of handsome suits of velvet, and by my in- 
fluence procured him an invitation to many of the most elegant 
of these assemblies. But he had not had my advantages or 
experience of the manners of court ; was as shy with ladies as 
a young colt, and could no more dance a minuet than a donkey. 
He made very little way in the polite world in his mistress’s 
heart : in fact, I could see that she preferred several other 
young gentlemen to him, who were more at home in the ball- 
room than poor Ulick ; he had made his first impression upon 
the heiress, and felt his first flame for her, in her father’s house 
of Ballykiljoy, where he used to hunt and get drunk with the 
old gentleman. 

“ I could do thim, too, well enough anyhow,” Ulick would 
say, heaving a. sigh; “and if it’s drinking or riding across 
country would do it, there’s no man in Ireland would have a 
better chance with Amalia.” 

“ Never fear, Ulick,” was my reply ; “ you shall have your 
Anialia, or my name is not Redmond Barry.” 

My Lord Charlemont — who was one of the most elegant and 
accomplished noblemen in Ireland in those days, a fine scholar 
and wit, a gentleman who had travelled much abroad, where I 
had the honor of knowing him — gave a magnificent masquerade 
at his house of Marino, some few miles from Dublin, on the 
Dunleary road. And it was at this entertainment that I was 
determined that Ulick should be made happy for life. Miss 
Kiljoy was invited to the masquerade, and the little Lord Bul- 
lingdon, who longed to witness such a scene ; and it was agreed 
that he was to go under the guardianship of his governor, 
my old friend the Rev. Mr. Runt. I learned what was the 
equipage in which the party were to be conveyed to the ball, and 
took my measures accordingly. 

Ulick Brady was not present : his fortune and quality were 
not sufficient to procure him an invitation to so distinguished a 
place, and I had it given out three days previous that he had 
been arrested for debt: a rumor which surprised nobody who 
knew him. 

I appeared that night in a character with which I was very 
familiar, that of a private soldier in the King of Prussia’s guard. 
1 had a grotesque mask made, with an immense nose and mus- 
taches, talked a jumble of broken English and German, in 


BARRY LYNDOA\ ESQ. 


203 

which the latter greatly predominated ; and had crowds round 
me laughing at my droll accent > and whose curiosity increased 
by a knowledge of my previous history. Miss Kiljoy was at 
tired as an antique princess, with little Bullingdon as a page of 
the times of chivalry ; his hair was in powder, his doublet rose- 
color, and pea-green and silver, and he looked very handsome 
and saucy as he strutted about with my sword by his side. As 
for Mr. Runt, he walked about very demurely in a domino, and 
perpetually paid his respects to the buffet, and ate enough cold 
chicken and drank enough punch and champagne to satisfy a 
company of grenadiers. 

The Lord Lieutenant came and went in state — the ball was 
magnificent. Miss Kiljoy had partners in plenty, among whom 
was myself, who walked a minuet with her (if the clumsy wad- 
dling of the Irish heiress may be called by such a name) ; and 
I took occasion to plead my passion for Lady Lyndon in the 
most pathetic terms, and to beg her friend’s interference in my 
favor. 

It was three hours past midnight when the party for Lyndon 
House went away. Little Bullingdon had long since been 
asleep in one of Lady Charlemont’s china closets. Mr. Runt 
was exceedingly husky in talk, and unsteady in gait. A young 
lady of the present day would be alarmed to see a gentleman 
in such a condition ; but it was a common sight in those jolly 
old times, when a gentleman was thought a milksop unless he 
was occasionally tipsy. I saw Miss Kiljoy to her carriage, with 
several other gentlemen ; and, peering through the crowd of 
ragged linkboys, drivers, beggars, drunken men and women, 
who used invariably wait round great men’s doors when festivi- 
ties were going on, saw the carriage drive off, with a hurrah 
from the mob ; then came baiek presently to the supper-room, 
where I talked German, favored the three or four topers still 
there with a High-Dutch chorus, and attacked the dishes and 
wine with great resolution. 

“ How can you drink tfisy with that big nose on ? ” said one 
gentleman. 

“Go an be hangt ! ” said I, in the true, accent, applying 
myself again to the wine ; with which the others laughed, and I 
pursued my supper in silence. 

There was a gentleman present who had seen the Lyndon 
party go off, with whom I had made a bet, which I lost ; and 
the next morning I called upon him and paid it him. All which 
particulars the reader will be surprised at hearing enumerated : 
but the fact is, that it was not I who went back to the party, but 


204 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


my late German valet, who was of my size, and dressed in my 
mask, could perfectly pass for me. We changed clothes in a 
hackney-coach that stood near Lady Lyndon’s chariot, and 
driving after it, speedily overtook it. 

The fated vehicle which bore the lovely object of Ulick 
Brady’s affections had not advanced very far, when, in the 
midst of a deep rut in the road, it came suddenly to with a jolt ; 
the footman, springing off the back, cried “ Stop ! ” to the 
coachman, warning him that a wheel was off, and that it would 
be dangerous to proceed with only three. Wheel-caps had not 
been invented in those days, as they have since by the inge- 
nious builders of Long Acre. And how the linchpin of the wheel 
had come out I do not pretend to say ; but it possibly may have 
been extracted by some rogues among the crowd before Lord 
Charlemont’s gate. 

Miss Kiljoy thrust her head out of the window, screaming as 
ladies do; Mr. Runt the chaplain woke up from his boozy 
slumbers ; and little Bullingdon, starting up and drawing his 
little sword, said, “ Don’t be afraid, Miss Amelia : if it’s foot- 
pails, I am armed.” The young rascal had the spirit of a lion, 
that’s the truth ; as I must acknowledge, in spite of all my after- 
quarrels with him. 

The hackney-coach which had been following Lady Lyndon’s 
chariot by this time came up, and the coachman seeing the dis- 
aster, stepped down from his box, and politely requested her 
ladyship’s honor to enter his vehicle ; which was as clean and 
elegant as any person of tiptop quality might desire. This in- 
vitation was, after a minute or two, accepted by the passengers 
of the chariot : the hackney-coachman promising to drive them 
to Dublin “in a hurry.” Thady, the valet, proposed to accom- 
pany his young master and the young kidy ; and the coachman, 
who had a friend seemingly drunk by his side on the box, with 
a grin told Thady to get up behind. However, as the footboard 
there was covered with spikes, as a defence against the street- 
boys, who love a ride gratis, Thady’s fidelity would not induce 
him to brave these ; and he was persuaded to remain by the 
wounded chariot, for which he and the coachman manufactured 
a linchpin out of a neighboring hedge. 

Meanwhile, although the hackney-coachman drove on rapidly, 
yet the party within seemed to consider it was a long distance 
from Dublin ; and what was Miss Kil joy’s astonishment, on 
looking out of the window at length, to see around her a lonely 
heath, with no signs cf buildings or city. She began forthwith 
to scream out to the coachman to stop; but the man onlv 


BA RR Y L YiVDON, ESQ. 2 05 

whipped the horses the faster for her noise, and bade her lady- 
ship “ hould on — ’twas a short cut he was taking.” 

Miss Kiljoy continued screaming, the coachman flogging, 
the horses galloping, until two or three men appeared suddenly 
from a hedge, to whom the fair one cried for assistance • and 
the young Bullingdon opening the coach-door, jumped valiantly 
out, toppling over head and heels as he fell ; but jumping up in 
an instant, he drew his little sword, and, running towards the 
carriage, exclaijned, “ This way, gentlemen! stop the rascal !” 

“ Stop ! ” cried the men ; at which the coachman pulled up 
with extraordinary obedience. Runt all the while lay tipsy in 
the carriage, having only a dreamy half-consciousness of all 
that was going on. 

The newly arrived champions of female distress now held a 
consultation, in which they looked at the young lord and 
laughed considerably. 

“ Do not be alawned,” said their leader, coming up to the 
door ; “ one of my people shall mount the box by the side of 
that treacherous rascal, and, with your ladyship’s leave, I and 
my companion will get in and see you home. We are well 
armed, and can defend you in case of danger.” 

With this, and without more ado, he jumped into the car- 
riage, his companion following him. 

Know your place, fellow ! ” cried out little Bullingdon, in- 
dignantly : “ and give place to the Lord Viscount Bullingdon ! ” 
and put himself before the huge person of the new-comer, who 
was about to enter the hackney-coach. 

“ Get out of that, my lord,” said the man, in a broad brogue, 
and shoving him aside. On which the boy, crying “ Thieves ! 
thieves ! ” drew out his little hanger, and ran at the man, and 
would have wounded him (for a small sword will wound as well 
as a great one) ; but his opponent, who was armed with a long 
stick, struck the weapon luckily out of the lad’s hands : it went 
flying over his head, and left him aghast and mortified at his 
discomfiture. 

He then pulled off his hat, making his lordship a low bow, 
and entered the carriage ; the door of which was shut upon him 
by his confederate, who was to mount the box. Miss Kiljoy 
might have screamed ; but I presume her shrieks were stopped 
by the sight of an enormous horse-pistol which one of her 
champions produced, who said, “ No harm is intended you, 
ma’am, but if you cry out, we must gag you ; ” on which she 
suddenly became as mute as a fish. 

All these events took place in an exceedingly short space of 


2o6 


THIi MEMOIRS OF 


time ; and when the three invaders had taken possession of the 
carriage, tne poor little Bullingdon being left bewildered and 
astonished on the heath, one of them putting his head out of 
the window, said, — 

“ My lord, a word with you.” 

“ What is it ? ” said the boy beginning to whimper : he 
was but eleven years old, and his courage had been excellent 
hitherto. 

u You are only two miles from Marino. Walk back till you 
come to a big stone, there turn to the right, and keep on straight 
till you get to the high-road, when you will easily find your way 
back. And when you see her ladyship your mamma, give 
Captain Thunder’s compliments, and say Miss Amelia Kiljoy 
is going to be married.” 

“ O heavens ! ” sighed out that young lady. 

The carriage drove swiftly on, and the poor little nobleman 
was left alone on the heath, just as the morning began to break. 
He was fairly frightened ; and no wonder. He thought of run- 
ning after the coach ; but his courage and his little legs failed 
him . so he sat down upon a stone and cried for vexation. 

It was in this way that Ulick Brady made what I call a 
Sabine marriage. When he halted with his two groomsmen at 
the cottage where the ceremony was to be performed, Mr. Runt, 
the chaplain, at first declined to perform it. But a pistol was 
held at the head of that unfortunate preceptor, and he was 
told, with dreadful oaths, that his miserable brains would be 
blown out ; when he consented to read the service. The lovely 
Amelia had, very likely, a similar inducement held out to her, 
but of that I know nothing ; for I drove back to town with the 
coachman as soon as we had set the bridal party down, and 
had the satisfaction of finding PTitz, my German, arrived be- 
fore me : he had come back in my carriage in my dress, having 
left the masquerade undiscovered, and done everything there 
according to my orders. 

Poor Runt came back the next day in a piteous plight, keep- 
ing silence as to his share in the occurrence of the evening, 
and with a dismal story of having been drunk, of having been 
waylaid and bound, of having been left on the road and picked 
up by a Wicklow cart, which was coming in with provisions to 
Dublin, and found him helpless on the road. There was no 
possible means of fixing any share of the conspiracy on him. 
Little Bullingdop, who, too, found his way home, was unable in 
any way to identify me. But Lady Lyndon knew that 1 was 
concerned in the plot, for I met her hurrying the next day to 


ffA'KXY L YNDOA\ ESQ. 


207 


the Castle ; all the town being up about the enlevement. And I 
saluted her with a smile so diabolical, that I knew she was 
aware that I had been concerned in the daring and ingenious 
scheme. 

Thus it was that I repaid Ulick Brady’s kindness to me in 
early days ; and had the satisfaction of restoring the fallen 1 
fortunes of a deserving branch of my family. He took his 
bride into Wicklow, where he lived with her in the strictest 
seclusion until the affair was blown over; the Kiljoys striving 
everywhere in vain to discover his retreat. They did not for a 
while even lyaow who was the lucky man who had carried off 
the heiress ; nor was it until she wrote a letter some weeks 
afterwards, signed Amelia' Brady, and expressing her perfect 
happiness in her new condition, and stating that she had been 
married by Lady Lyndon’s chaplain Mr. Runt, that the truth 
was known, and my worthy friend confessed his share of the 
transaction. As his good-natured mistress did not dismiss him 
from his post in consequence, everybody persisted in supposing 
that poor Lady Lyndon was privy to the plot ; and the story of 
her ladyship’s passionate attachment for me gained more and 
more credit. 

I was not slow, you may be sure, in profiting by these ru- 
mors. Every one thought I had a share in the Brady mar- 
riage ; though no one could prove it. Every one thought 1 was 
well with the widowed countess ; though no one could show that 
I said so. But there is a way of proving a thing even while you 
contradict it, and I used to laugh and joke so apropos that all 
men began to wish me joy of my great fortune, and look up to 
me as the affianced husband of the greatest heiress in the king- 
dom. The papers took up the matter ; the female friends of 
Lady Lyndon remonstrated with her and cried “ Fie ! ” Even 
the English journals and magazines, which in those days were 
very scandalous, talked of the matter ; and whispered that a 
beautiful and accomplished widow, with a title and the largest 
possessions in the two kingdoms, was about to bestow her hand 
upon a young gentleman of high birth and fashion, who had 
distinguished himself in the service of his M — y the K — of 
Pr — . I won’t say who was the author of these paragraphs ; 
or how two pictures, one representing myself under the title of 
“The Prussian Irishman,” and the other Lady Lyndon, as 
“ The Countess of Ephesus,” actually appeared in the 2bwn 
ami Country Magazine, published at London, and containing the 
fashionable tittle-tattle of the day. 

Lady Lyndon was so perplexed and terrified by this con- 


THE MEMOJKS VE 


2 0 % 

tiniuil hold upon her, that she determined to leave the country. 
Well, she did : and who was the first to receive her on landing 
at Holyhead? Your humble servant, Redmond Barry, Esq. 
And to crown all, the Dublin Mercury, which announced her 
ladyship’s departure, announced mine the day before. There 
was not a soul but thought she had followed me to England ; 
whereas she was only flying me. Vain hope! — a man of my 
resolution was not thus to be baulked in pursuit. Had she 
fled to the antipodes, I would have been there : ay, and would 
have followed her as far as Orpheus did Eurydice ! 

Eler ladyship had a house in Berkeley Square, London, 
more splendid than that which she possessed in Dublin ; and, 
knowing that she would come thither, 1 preceded her to the 
English capital, and took handsome apartments in Hill Street, 
hard by. I had the same intelligence in her London Louse 
which I had procured in Dublin. The same faithful porter 
was there to give me all the information I required. I promised 
to treble his wages as soon as a certain event should happen. 
I won over Lady Lyndon’s companion by a present of ioo 
guineas down, and a promise of 2,000 when I should be mar- 
ried, and gained the favors of her favorite lady’s-maid by a 
bribe of similar magnitude. My reputation had so far preceded 
me iir London that, on my arrival, numbers of the genteel were 
eager to receive me at their routs. We have no idea in this 
humdrum age what a gay and splendid place London was then : 
what a passion for play there was among young and old, male 
and female ; what thousands were lost and won in a night ; 
what beauties there were — how brilliant, gay, and dashing! 
Everybody was delightfully wicked : the royal Dukes of Glou- 
cester and Cumberland set the example ; the nobles followed 
close behind. Running away was the fashion. Ah ! it was a 
pleasant time ; and lucky was he who had fire, and youth, and 
money, and could live in it ! I had all these ; and the old fre- 
quenters of “ White’s,” “ Wattier’s,” and “ Goosetree’s ” could 
tell stories of the gallantry, spirit, and high fashion of Captain 
Barry. 

The progress of a love-story is tedious to all those who are 
not concerned, and I leave such themes to the hack novel- 
writers, and the young boarding-school misses for whom they 
write. It is not my intention to follow, step by step, the inci- 
dents of my courtship, or to narrate all the difficulties I had to 
contend with, and my triumphant manner of surmounting them. 
Suffice it to say, I did overcome these difficulties. I am of 
opinion, with my friend the late ingenious Mr. Wilkes, that 


BARK Y LYNDON, ESQ. 


2CC) 

such impediments are nothing in the way of a man of spirit ; 
and that he can convert indifference and aversion into love, if 
he have perseverance and cleverness sufficient. By the time 
the countess’s widowhood was expired, I had found means to 
be received into her house ; I had her women perpetually talk- 
ing in my favor, vaunting my powers, expatiating upon my 
reputation, and boasting of my success and popularity in the 
fashionable world. 

Also, the best friends I had in the prosecution of my tender 
suit were the countess’s noble relatives ; who were far from 
knowing the service that they did me, and to whom I beg leave 
to tender my heartfelt thanks for the abuse with which they 
then loaded me : and to whom 1 fling my utter contempt for 
the calumny and hatred with which they have subsequently 
pursued me. 

The chief of these amiable persons was the Marchioness of 
Tiptoff, mother of the young gentleman whose audacity I had 
punished at Dublin. This old harridan, on the countess’s first 
arrival in London, waited upon her, and favored her with such 
a storm of abuse for her encouragement of me, that I do be- 
lieve she advanced my cause more than six months’ courtship 
could have done, or the pinking of a half-dozen of rivals. It 
was in vain that poor Lady Lyndon pleaded her entire inno- 
cence, and vowed she had never encouraged me. “ Never 
encouraged him!” screamed out the old Fury; “ didn’t you 
encourage the wretch at Spa, during Sir Charles’s own life ? 
Didn’t you marry a dependent of yours to one of this profli- 
gate’s bankrupt cousins ? When he set off for England, didn’t 
you follow him like a madwoman the very next day? Didn't he 
take lodgings at your very door almost — and do you call this 
no encouragement? For shame, madam, shame ! You might 
have married my son — my dear and noble George ; but that he 
did not choose to interfere with your shameful passion for the 
beggarly upstart whom you caused to assassinate him ; and the 
only counsel I have to give your ladyship is this, to legitimatize 
the ties which you have contracted with this shameless adven- 
turer : to make that connection legal which, real as it is now, is 
against both decency and religion ; and to. spare your family 
and your son the shame of your present line of life.” 

With this the old fury of a marchioness left the room, and 
Lady Lyndon in tears : I had the whole particulars of the con- 
versation from her ladyship’s companion, and augured the best 
result from it in my favor. 

Thus by the sage influence of my Lady Tiptoff, the Count- 

14 


2 l o 


77/7:’ MEMOIRS OE 


ess of Lyndon s natural friends and family were kept from her 
society. Even when Lady Lyndon went to court, tKe most 
august lady in the realm received her with such marked cold- 
ness, that the unfortunate widow came home and took to her 
bed with vexation. And thus, I may say, that royalty itself 
became an agent in advancing my suit, and helping the plans 
of the poor Irish soldier of fortune. So it is that Fate works 
with agents, great and small ; and by means over which they 
have no control, the destinies of men and women are accom- 
plished. 

I shall always consider the conduct of Mrs. Bridget (Lady 
Lyndon's favorite maid at this juncture) as a masterpiece of in- 
genuity : and, indeed, had such an opinion of her diplomatic 
skill, that the very instant I became master of the Lyndon es- 
tates, and paid her the promised sum — I am a man of honor, 
and rather than not keep my word with the woman, I raised 
the money of the Jews, at an exorbitant interest — as soon, I 
say, as I achieved my triumph, I took Mrs. Bridget by ti e 
hand, and said, “ Madam, you have shown such unexampled 
fidelity in my service that I am glad to reward you, according 
to my promise ; but you have given proofs of such extraordi- 
nary cleverness and dissimulation, that I must decline keeping 
you in Lady Lyndon’s establishment, and beg you will leave it 
this very day ; ” which she did, and went over to the Tiptofi: 
faction, and has abused me ever since. 

But 1 must tell you what she did which was so clever. Why, 
it was the simplest thing in the world, as all masterstrokes are. 
When Lady Lyndon lamented her fate and my — as she was 
pleased to call it — shameful treatment of her, Mrs. Bridget 
said, “ Why should not your ladyship write this young gentle- 
man word of the evil which he is causing you ? Appeal to his 
feelings (which, I have heard say, are very good indeed — the 
whole town is ringing with accounts of his spirit and generos- 
ity), and beg him to desist from a pursuit which causes the 
best of ladies so much pain ? Do, my lady, write : I know 
your style is so elegant that I, for my part, have many a time 
burst into tears in reading your charming letters, and 1 have 
no doubt Mr. Barry will sacrifice anything rather than hurt 
your feelings.” And, of course, the abigail swore to the fact. 

“ Do you think so, Bridget ? ” said her ladyship. And my 
mistress forthwith penned me a letter, in her most fascinating 
and winning manner : — 

“ Why, sir,” wrote she. “ will you pursue me? why eaviron me in a web 


BARRY LYNDON, LSQ. 


2 I I 


of intrigue so frightful that my spirit sinks under it, seeing escape is hope* 
less, from your frightful, your diabolical art ? They say you are generous to 
others — be so to me. I know your bravery but too well : exercise it on men 
who can meet your sword, not on a poor feeble woman, who cannot resist 
vou. Remember the friendship you once professed for me. And now, I 
beseech you, I implore you, to give a proof of it. Contradict the calumnies 
which you have spread against me, and repair, if you can, and if you have a 
spark of honor left, the miseries which you have caused to the heart broken. 

“ H. Lyndon.” 

What was this letter meant for but that I should answer it 
in person ? My excellent ally told me where I should meet 
Lady Lyndon, and accordingly I followed, and found her at the 
Pantheon. I repeated the scene at Dublin over again ; showed 
her how prodigious my power was, humble as I was, and that 
my energy was still untired. “ But,” I added, “ I am as great 
in good as I am in evil ; as fond and faithful as a friend as 
I am terrible as an enemy. I will do everything,” I said, 
“ which you ask of me, except when you bid me not to love 
you. That is beyond my power ; and while my heart has a 
pulse I must follow you. It is my fate; your fate. Cease to 
battle against it, and be mine. Loveliest of your sex ! with life 
alone can end my passion for you ; and, indeed, it is only by 
dying at your command that I can be brought to obey you. Do 
you wish me to die ? ” 

She said, laughing (for she was a woman of a lively, humor- 
ous turn), that she did not wish me to commit self-murder ; and 
I felt from that moment that she was mine. 

******* 

A year from that day, on the 15th of May, in the year 1773, 
I had the honor and happiness to lead to the altar Honoria, 
Countess of Lyndon, widow of the late Right Hon. Sir Charles 
Lyndon, K. B. The ceremony was performed at St. George’s, 
Hanover Square, by the Rev. Samuel Runt, her ladyship’s 
chaplain. A magnificent supper and ball was given at our 
house in Berkeley Square, and the next morning I had a duke, 
four earls, three generals, and a crowd of the most distinguished 
people in London at my levee. Walpole made a lampoon 
about the marriage, and Selwyn cut jokes at the “ Cocoa-tree.” 
Old Lady Tiptoff, although she had recommended it, was ready 
to bite off her fingers with vexation ; and as for young Bul- 
lingdon, who was grown a tall lad of fourteen, when called 
upon by the countess to embrace his papa, he shook his fist in 
my face and said, “ He my father ! I would as soon call one 
of your ladyship’s footmen papa ! ” 

Eiut I could afford to laugh at the rage of the boy and the 


2 12 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


old woman, and at the jokes of the wits of St. James’s. I sent 
off a llaming account of our nuptials to my mother and my 
uncle the good chevalier ; and now, arrived at the pitch of pros- 
perity, and having, at thirty years of age, by my own merits and 
energy, raised myself to one of the highest social positions that 
any man in England could occupy, I determined to enjoy my- 
self as became a man of quality for the remainder of my life. 

After we had received the congratulations of our friends in 
London — for in those days people were not ashamed of being 
married, as they seem to be now — I and Honoria (who was all 
complacency, and a most handsome, sprightly, and agreeable 
companion) set of to visit our estates in the west of England, 
where I had never as yet set foot. We left London in three 
chariots, each with four horses ; and my uncle would have been 
pleased could he have seen painted on their panels the Irish 
crown and the ancient coat of the Barrys, beside the countess’s 
coronet and the noble cognizance of the noble family of 
Lyndon. 

Before quitting London, I procured his Majesty’s gracious 
permission to add the name of my lovely lady to my own ; and 
henceforward assumed the style and title of Barry Lyndon, as 
I have written it in this autobiography. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

I APPEAR AS AN ORNAMENT OF ENGLISH SOCIETY. 

All the journey down to Hackton Castle, the largest and 
most ancient of our ancestral seats in Devonshire, was per- 
formed with the slow and sober state becoming people of the 
first quality in the realm. An outrider in my livery went on 
before us, and bespoke our lodging from town to town ; and 
thus we lay in state at Andover, llminster, and Exeter; and 
the fourth evening arrived in time for supper before the antique 
baronial mansion, of which the gate 'was in an odious Gothic 
taste that would have set Mr. Walpole wild with pleasure. 

The first days of a marriage are commonly very trying ; and 
I have known couples, who lived together like turtle-doves for 
the rest of their lives, peck each other’s eyes out almost during 
the honeymoon. I did not escape the common lot : in oui 


PARR V L YXDOX, I SQ. 


21 3 


journey westward my Lady Lyndon chose to quarrel with me 
because I pulled out a pipe of tobacco (the habit of smoking 
which I had acquired in Germany when a soldier in Billow’s, 
and could never give it over), and smoked it in the carriage ; 
and also her ladyship chose to take umbrage both at Ilminster 
and Andover, because in the evenings when we lay there I 
chose to invite the landlords of the “ Bell ” and the “ Lion J ’ to 
crack a bottle with me. Lady Lyndon was a haughty woman, 
and I hate pride ; and I promise you that in both instances 1 
overcame this vice in her. On the third day of our journey I 
had her to light my pipe-match with her own hands, and made 
her deliver it to me with tears in her eyes ; and at the “ Sw*!an 
Inn ” at Exeter I had so completely suddued her, that she 
asked me humbly whether I would not wish the landlady as 
well as the host to step up to dinner with us. To this I should 
have had no objection, for, indeed, Mrs. Bonnyface was a very 
good-looking woman ; but we expected a visit from my Lord 
Bishop, a kinsman of Lady Lyndon, and the bienseances did not 
permit the indulgence of my wife’s request. I appeared with 
her at evening service, to compliment our right reverend cousin, 
and put her name down for twenty-five guineas, and my own 
for one hundred, to the famous new organ which was then 
being built for the cathedral. This conduct, at the very outset 
of my career in the country, made me not a little popular ; and 
the residentiary canon who did me the favor to sup with me at 
the inn, went away after the sixth bottle, hiccuping the most 
solemn vows for the welfare of such a p-p-pious gentleman. 

Before we reached Hackton Castle, we had to drive through 
ten miles of the Lyndon estates, where the people were out to 
visit us, the church bells set a-ringing, the parson and the farm- 
ers assembled in their best by the roadside, and the school- 
children and the laboring-people were loud in their hurrahs for 
her ladyship. I flung money among these worthy characters, 
stopped to bow and chat with his reverence and the farmers, 
and if I found that the Devonshire girls were among the hand- 
somest in the kingdom is it my fault ? These remarks my Lady 
Lyndon especially would take in great dudgeon : and I do 
believe she was made more angry by my admiration of the red 
cheeks of Miss Betsy Quarringdon of Clumpton, than by any 
previous speech or act of mine in the journey. “ Ah, ah, my 
fine madam, you are jealous, are you ? ” thought I, and reflected, 
not without deep sorrow, how lightly she herself had acted in 
her husband’s lifetime, and that those are most jealous who 
themselves give most cause for jealousy. 


TIIE MEMOIRS OF 


Round Hackton village the scene of welcome was particu- 
larly gay : a band of music had been brought from Plymouth, 
and arches and flags had been raised, especially before the 
attorney’s and the doctor’s houses, who were both in the employ 
of the family. There were many hundreds of stout people at 
the great lodge, which, with the park-wall, bounds one side of 
Hackton Green, and from which, for three miles, goes (or rather 
went) an avenue of noble elms up to the towers of the old castle. 
I wished they had been, oak when I cut the trees down in 79, 
for they would have fetched three times the money : 1 know 
nothing more culpable than the carelessness of ancestors in 
plating their grounds with timber of small value, when they 
might just as easily raise oak. Thus I have always said that 
the Roundhead Lyndon of Hackton, who planted these elms in 
Charles II.’s time, cheated me of 1 0,000/. 

For the first few days after our arrival, my time was agreea- 
bly spent in receiving the visits of the nobility and gentry who 
came to pay their respects to the noble new married couple, 
and, like Bluebeard’s wife in the fairy tale, in inspecting the 
treasures, the furniture, and the numerous chambers of the 
castle. It is a huge old place, built as far back as Henry Y.’s 
time, besieged and battered by the Cromwellians in the Revo- 
lution, and altered and patched up, in an odious old-fashioned 
taste, by the Roundhead Lyndon, who succeeded to the prop- 
erty at the death of a brother whose principles were excellent 
and of the true Cavalier sort, but who ruined himself chiefly by 
drinking, dicing, and a dissolute life, and a little by supporting 
the king. The castle stands in a fine chase, which was prettily 
speckled over with deer ; and I can’t but own that my pleasure 
was considerable at first, as I sat in the oak parlor of ’summer 
evenings, with the windows open, the gold and silver plate 
shining in a hundred dazzling colors on the sideboards, a dozen 
jolly companions round the table, and could look out over the 
wide green park and the waving*woods, and see the sun setting 
on the lake, and hear the deer calling to one another. 

The exterior was, when I first arrived, a quaint composition 
of all sorts of architecture ; of feudal towers, and gable-ends in 
Queen Bess’s style, and rough-patched walls built up to repair 
the ravages of the Roundhead capnon : but I need not speak of 
this at large, having had the place new-faced at a vast expense, 
under a fashionable architect, and the facade laid out in the 
latest French-Greek and most classical style. There had been 
moats, and drawbridges, and outer walls ; these I had shaved 
away into elegant terraces, and handsomely laid out in parterres 


BANK V I. YjVDOA', ESQ 


2 1 5 

according to the plans of M. Cornichon, the great Parisian 
architect, who visited England for the purpose. 

After ascending the outer steps, you entered an antique hall 
of vast dimensions, wainscoted with black carved oak, and 
ornamented with portraits of our ancestors : from the square 
beard of Brook Lyndon, the great lawyer in Queen Bess’s time, 
to the loose stomacher and ringlets of Lady Saccharissa Lyndon, 
whom Vandyck painted when she was a maid of honor to Queen 
Henrietta Maria, and down to Sir Charles Lyndon, with his 
ribbon as a knight of the Bath ; and my lady, painted by Hudson, 
in a white satin sack and the family diamonds, as she was 
presented to the old King George II. These diamonds were 
very fine ; I first had them reset by Boehmer, when we appeared 
before their French Majesties at Versailles ; and finally raised 
18,000/ upon them, after that infernal run of ill-luck at “Goose- 
tree’s,” when Jemmy Twitcher (as we called my Lord Sand- 
wich), Carlisle, Charley Fox, and I played hombre for four-and- 
forty hours sans dcsemparer . Bows and pikes, huge stag-heads 
and hunting implements, and rusty old suits of armor, that may 
have been worn in the days of Gog and Magogfor what I know, 
formed the other old ornaments of this huge apartment ; and 
were ranged round a fireplace where you might have turned a 
coach-and-six. This I kept pretty much in its antique condition, 
but had the old armor eventually turned out and consigned to 
the lumber-rooms up stairs ; replacing- it with china monsters, 
gilded settees from France, and elegant marbles, of which the 
broken noses and limbs, and ugliness, undeniably proved their 
antiquity : and which an agent purchased for me at Rome. But 
such was the taste of the times (and perhaps, the rascality of 
my agent), that 30,000/. worth of these gems of art only went 
for 300 guineas at a subsequent period, when I found it neces- 
sary to raise money on my collections. 

From this main hall branched off on either side the long 
series of state-rooms, poorly furnished with high-backed chairs 
and long, queer Venice glasses, when first I came to the prop- 
erty ; but afterwards rendered so splendid by me, with the 
gold damasks of Lyons and the magnificent Gobelin tapestries 
I won from Richelieu at play. There were thirty-six bedrooms 
de maitre , of which I only kept three in their antique condition, 
— the haunted room, as it was called, where the murder was 
done in James I Ids time, the bed where William .slept after 
landing at Torbay, and Queen Elizabeth’s state-room. All the 
rest were redecorated by Cornichon in the most elegant taste , 
not a little to the scandal of some of the steady old country 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


2 16 

dowagers ; for 1 had pictures of Boucher and Vanloo to deco- 
rate the principal apartments, in which the Cupids and Venuses 
were painted in a manner so natural, that I recollect the old 
wizened Countess of Frumpington pinning over the curtains of 
her bed, and sending her daughter, Lady Blanche Whalebone, 
to sleep with her waiting-woman, rather than allow her to lie in 
a chamber hung all over with looking-glasses, after the exact 
fashion of the queen’s closet at Versailles. 

For many of these ornaments I was not so much answerable 
as Cornichon, whom Lauraguais lent me, and who was the in- 
tendant of my buildings during my absence abroad. I had 
given the man carte blanche , and when he fell down and broke 
his leg, as he was decorating a theatre in the room which had 
been the old chapel of the castle, the people of the country 
thought it was a judgment of heaven upon him. In his rage 
for improvement the fellow dared anything. Without my or- 
ders, he cut down an old rookery which was sacred in the 
country, and had a prophecy regarding it, stating, “ When the 
rook-wood shall fall, down goes Hackton Hall.” The rooks 
went over and colonized Tiptoff Woods, which lay near us 
(and be hanged to them !), and Cornichon built a temple to 
Venus and two lovely fountains on their site. Venuses and 
Cupids were the rascal’s adoration ; he wanted to take down 
the Gothic screen and place Cupids in our pew there ; but old 
Doctor Huff the rector came out with a large oak stick, and 
addressed the unlucky architect in Latin, of which he did not 
comprehend a word, yet made him understand that he would 
break his bones if he laid a single finger upon the sacred edi- 
fice. Cornichon made complaints about the “ Abb<f Huff,” as 
he called him (“ Et quel abbe, grand Dieu ! ” added he, quite 
bewildered, “un abbe avec douze enfans ! ”) ; but I encour- 
aged the church in this respect, and bade Cornichon exert his 
talents only in the castle. 

There was a magnificent collection of ancient plate, to which 
I added much of the most splendid modern kind ; a cellar 
which, however well furnished, required continual replenishing, 
and a kitchen which I reformed altogether. My friend, Jack 
Wilkes, sent me down a cook from the Mansion House, for the 
English cookery, — the turtle and venison department : I had a 
chief (who called out the Englishman, by the way, and com- 
plained sadly of the gros cocho?i who wanted to meet him with 
coups depoing) and a couple of aides from Paris, and an Italian 
confectioner, as my officiers de bouche, All which natural appen- 
dages to man of fashion, the odious, stingy old Tiptoff, my 


BARRY /.) X D O A , ESQ. 


217 


kinsman and neighbor, affected to view with horror ; and he 
spread through the country a report that i had my victuals 
cooked by Papists, lived upon frogs, and, he verily believed, 
fricasseed little children. 

But the squires ate my dinners very readily for all that, and 
old Dr. Huff himself was compelled to allow that my venison 
and turtle were most orthodox. The former gentry I knew 
how to conciliate, too, in other ways. There had been only a 
subscription pack of fox-hounds in the country, and a few beg- 
garly couples of mangy beagles, with which old Tiptoff pattered 
about his grounds ; I built a kennel and stables, which cost 
30,000/., and stocked them in a manner which was worthy of 
my ancestors, the Irish kings. I had two packs of hounds, 
and took the field in the season four times a week, with three 
gentlemen in my hunt-uniform to follow' me, and open house 
at Hackton for all who belonged to the hunt. 

These changes and this train dc vivre required, as may be 
supposed, no small outlay ; and I confess that I have little of 
that base spirit of economy in my composition which some 
people practise and admire. For instance, old Tiptoff was 
hoarding up his money to repair his father’s extravagance and 
disencumber his estates ; a good deal of the money with which 
he paid off his mortgages my agent procured upon mine. And, 
besides, it must be remembered I had only a life-interest upon 
the Lyndon property, was always of an easy temper in dealing 
with the money-brokers, and had to pay heavily for insuring her 
ladyship’s life. 

At the end of a year Lady Lyndon presented me with a son 
• — Bryan Lyndon I called him, in compliment to my royal 
ancestry : but what more had I to leave him than a noble 
name ? Was not the estate of his mother entailed upon the 
odious little Turk, Lord Bullingdon ? and whom, by the way, I 
have not mentioned as yet, though he was living at Hackton, 
consigned to a new governor. The insubordination of that boy 
was dreadful. He used to quote passages of “ Hamlet” to his 
mother, which made her very angry. Once when I took a 
horsewhip to chastise him, he drew a knife, and would have 
stabbed me : and ’faith, I recollected my own youth, which was 
pretty similar ; and, holding out my hand, burst out laughing, 
and proposed to him to be friends. • We were reconciled for 
that time, and the next, and the next ; but there was no love 
lost between us, and his hatred for me seemed to grow as he 
grew, which was apace. 

I determined to endow my darling boy Bryan with a prop* 


2 I 8 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


erty, and to this end cut down twelve thousand pounds’ worth 
of timber on Lady Lyndon’s Yorkshire and Irish estates : at 
which proceeding Bullingdon’s guardian, Tiptoff, cried out, as 
usual, and swore I had no right to touch a stick of the trees : 
but down they went ; and I commissioned my mother to re- 
purchase the ancient lands of Ballybarry and Barryogue, which 
had once formed part of the immense possessions of my house. 
These she bought back with excellent prudence, and extreme 
joy ; for her heart was gladdened at the idea that a son 
was born to my name, and with the notion of my magnificent 
fortunes. 

To say truth, I was rather afraid, now that I lived in a very 
different sphere to that in which she was accustomed to move, 
lest she should come to pay me a visit, and astonish my English 
friends by her bragging and her brogue, her rouge and her old 
hoops and furbelows of the time of George II. ; in which she 
had figured advantageously in her youth, and which she still 
fondly thought to be at the height of the fashion. So I wrote 
to her, putting off her visit ; begging her to visit us when the 
left wing of the castle was- finished, or the stables built, and so 
forth. There was no need of such precaution. “ A hint’s 
enough for me, Redmond,” the old lady would reply. “ I am 
not coming to disturb you among your great English friends 
with my old-fashioned Irish ways. It’s a blessing to me to 
think that my darling boy has attained the position which I al- 
ways knew was his due, and for which I pinched myself to edu- 
cate him. You must bring me the little Bryan, that his grand- 
mother may kiss him, one day. Present my respectful blessing 
to her ladyship his mamma. Tell her she has got a treasure in 
her husband, which she couldn’t have had had she taken a 
duke to marry her ; and that the Barrys and the Bradys, 
though without titles, have the best of blood in their veins. I 
shall never rest until I see you Earl of Ballybarry, and my 
grandson Lord Viscount Barryogue.” 

How singular it was that the very same idea should be 
passing in my mother’s mind and my own ! The very titles she 
had pitched upon had also been selected (naturally enough) by 
me ; and I don’t mind confessing that I had filled a dozen 
sheets of paper with my signature, under the names of Bally- 
barry and Barryogue, and had determined with my usual im- 
petuosity to carry my point. My mother went and established 
herself at Ballybarry, living with the priest there until a tene- 
ment could be erected, and dating from ‘‘Ballybarry Castle;” 
which, you may be sure, I gave out to be a place of no small 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


2 19 

importance. I had a plan of the estate in my study, both at 
Hackton and in Berkeley Square, and the plans of the elevation 
of Ballybarry Castle, the ancestral residence of Barry Lyndon, 
Esq., with the projected improvements, in which the Castle was 
represented as about the size of Windsor, with more ornaments 
to the architecture ; and eight hundred acres of bog falling in 
handy, I purchased them at three pounds an acre, so that my 
estate upon the map looked to be no insignificant one.* I also 
in this year made arrangements for purchasing the Polwellan 
estate and mines in Cornwall from Sir John Trecothick, for 
70,000/. — an imprudent bargain, which was afterwards the 
cause to me of much dispute and litigation. The troubles of 
property, the rascality of agents, the quibbles of lawyers, are 
endless. Humble people envy us. great men, and fancy that 
our lives are all pleasure. Many a time in the course of my 
prosperity I have sighed for the days of my meanest fortune, 
and envied the boon companions at my table, with no clothes 
to their backs but such as my credit supplied them, without a 
guinea but what came from my pocket ; but without one of the 
harassing cares and responsibilities which are the dismal ad- 
juncts of great rank and property. 

I did little more than make my appearance, and assume the 
command of my estates, in the kingdom of Ireland ; rewarding 
generously those persons who had been kind to me in my 
former adversities, and taking my fitting place among the aris- 
tocracy of the land. But, in truth, I had small inducements to 
remain in it after having tasted of the genteeler and more com- 
plete pleasures of English and Continental life ; and we passed 
our summers at Buxton, the Bath, and Harrogate, while Hack- 
ton Castle was being beautified in the elegant manner already 
described by me, and the season at our mansion in Berkeley 
Square. 

It is wonderful how the possession of wealth brings out the 
virtues of a man ; or, at any rate, acts as a varnish or lustre to 
them, and brings out their brilliancy and color in a manner 
never known when the individual stood in the cold gray atmos- 
phere of poverty. I assure you it was a very short time before 
I was a pretty fellow of the first class ; made no small sensa- 
tion at the coffee-houses in Pall Mall, and afterwards at the 

* On the strength of this estate, and pledging his honor that it was not mortgaged, Mr. 
Barry Lyndon borrowed 17,000/. in the year 17S6, from young Captain Pigeon, the city 
merchant’s son, who had just come in for his property. As for the Polw’ellan estate and 
mines, “ the cause of endless litigation,” it must be owned that our hero purchased them ; 
but he never paid more than the first 5,000/. of the purchase-money. Hence the litigation 
of which he complains, and the famous Chancery suit of “Trecothick v. Lyndon,” in 
which Mr. John Scott greatly distinguished himself.— Ed. 


2 20 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


most famous clubs. My style, equipages, and elegant entertain- 
ments were in everybody’s mouth, and were described in all the 
morning prints. The needier part of Lady Lyndon’s relatives, 
and such as had been offended by the intolerable pomposity of 
old Tiptoff, began to appear at our routs and assemblies ; and 
as for relations of my own, I found in London and Ireland 
more than I had ever dreamed of, of cousins who claimed affin- 
ity with me. There were, of course, natives of my own country 
(of which I was not particularly proud), and I received visits 
from three or four swaggering shabby Temple bucks, with tar- 
nished lace and Tipperary brogue, who were eating their tvay 
to the bar in London ; from several gambling adventurers at the 
watering-places, whom I soon speedily let to know their place ; 
and from others of more reputable condition. Among them I 
may mention my cousin the Lord Kilbarry, who, on the score 
of his relationship, borrowed thirty pieces from me to pay his 
landlady in Swallow Street ; and whom, for my own reasons, I 
allowed to maintain and credit a connection for which the Her- 
alds’ College gave no authority whatsoever. Kilbarry had a 
cover at my table ; punted at play, and paid when he liked, 
which was seldom ; had an intimacy with, and was under con- 
siderable obligations to my tailor ; and always boasted of his 
cousin the great Barry Lyndon of the West country. 

Her ladyship and I lived, after a while, pretty separate when 
in London. She preferred quiet: or to say the truth, I pre- 
ferred it ; being a great friend to a modest, tranquil behavior 
in woman, and a taste for the domestic pleasures. Hence I 
encouraged her to dine at home with her ladies, her chaplain, 
and a few of her friends ; admitted three or four proper and dis- 
creet persons to accompany her to her box at the opera or play 
on proper occasions ; and indeed declined for her the too fre- 
quent visits of her friends and family, preferring to receive them 
only twice or thrice in a season on our grand reception days. 
Besides, she was a motherland had great comfort in the dress- 
ing, educating, and dandling our little Bryan, for whose sake 
it was fit that she should give up the pleasures and frivolities of 
the world ; so she left that part of the duty of every family of 
distinction to be performed by me. To say the truth, Lady 
Lyndon’s figure and appearance were not at this time such as to 
make for their owner any very brilliant appearance in the fash- 
ionable woild. She had grown very fat, was short-sighted, pale 
in complexion, careless about her dress, dull in demeanor ; her 
conversations with mfe characterized by a stupid despair, or a 
silly, blundering attempt at forced cheerfulness still more dis- 


BARRY L YNDO.i\\ ESQ . 


2 2 1 


agreeable : hence our intercourse was but trifling, and my 
temptations to carry her into the world, or to remain in her 
society, of necessity exceedingly small. She would try my 
temper at home, too, in a thousand ways. When requested by 
me (often, I own, rather roughly) to entertain the company with 
conversation, wit, and learning, of which she was a mistress : 
or music, of which she was an accomplished performer, she 
would as often as not begin to cry, ancl leave the room. My 
company from this, of course, fancied I was a tyrant over her; 
whereas I was only a severe and careful guardian over a silly, 
bad-tempered, and weak-minded lady. 

She was luckily very fond of her youngest son, and through 
him I had a wholesome and effectual hold of her ; for if in any 
of her tantrums or fits of haughtiness — (this woman was intol- 
erably proud ; and repeatedly, at first, in our quarrels, dared to 
twit me with my own original poverty and low birth), — if, I say, 
in our disputes she pretended to have the upper hand, to assert 
her authority against mine, to refuse to sign such papers as I 
might think necessary for the distribution of our large and 
complicated property, I would have Master Bryan carried off 
to Chiswick for a couple of days ; and I warrant me his lady- 
mother could hold out no longer, and would agree to anything 
I chose to propose. The servants about her I took care should 
be in my pay, not hers : especially the child’s head nurse was 
under my orders, not those of my lady; and a very handsome, 
red-cheeked, impudent jade she was ; and a great fool she made 
me make of myself. This woman was more mistress of the 
house than the poor-spirited lady who owned it. She gave the 
law to the servants ; and if I showed any particular attention 
to any of the ladies who visited us, the slut would not scruple 
to show her jealousy, and fb find means to send them packing. 
The fact is, a generous man is always made a fool of by some 
woman or other ; and this one had such an influence over me, 
that she could turn me round her finger.* 

* From these curious confessions, it would appear that Mr. Lyndon maltreated his lady 
in every possible way ; that he denied her society, bullied her into signing away her prop- 
erty, spent it in gambling and taverns, was openly unfaithful toiler; and, when she com- 
plained, threatened to remove her children from her. Nor, indeed, is he the only husband 
who has done the like, and has passed for “ nobody’s enemy but his own : ” a jovial, good- 
natured fellow. The world contains scores of such amiable people ; and, indeed, it is be- 
cause justice has not been done them that we have edited this autobiograph)'. Had it been 
that of a mere hero of romance, — one of those heroic youths who figure in the novels of 
Scott and James, — there would have been no call to introduce the reader to a personage al- 
ready so often and so charmingly depicted. Mr Barry Lyndon is not, we repeat, a hero of 
the common pattern ; but let the reader look round, and ask himself, Do not as many 
rogues succeed in life as honest men ? more fools than men of talent? And is it not lust 
that the lives of this class should be described by the student cf human nature as well as 
the actions of those fairy-tale princes, those perfect impossible heroes, whom our writers 


r/lE MEMOIRS OF 


Her infernal temper (Mrs. Stammer was the jade’s name), 
and my wife’s moody despondency, made my house and home 
not overpleasant : hence I was driven a good deal abroad, where, 
as play was the fashion at every club, tavern, and assembly, I, 
of course, was obliged to resume my old habit, and to com- 
mence as an amateur those games at which I was once unri- 
valled in Europe. But whether a man’s temper changes with 
prosperity, or his skill leaves him when, deprived of a confed- 
erate, and pursuing the game no longer professionally, he joins 
in it, like the rest of the world, for .pastime, I know not ; but 
certain it is, that in the seasons of 1774-5 I lost much money 
at “ White’s ” and the “ Cocoa Tree,” and was compelled to 
meet my losses by borrowing largely upon my wife’s annuities, 
insuring her ladyship’s life, and so forth. The terms at which 
I raised these necessary sums, and the outlays requisite for my 
improvements, were, of course, very onerous, and clipped the 
property considerably ; and it was some of these papers which 
my Lady Lyndon (who was of a narrow, timid, and stingy turn) 
occasionally refused to sign : until I persuaded her, as I have 
before shown. 

My dealings on the turf ought to be mentioned, as forming 
part of my history at this time ; but, in truth, I have no partic- 
ular pleasure in recalling my Newmarket doings. 1 was infer- 
nally bit and bubbled in almost every one of my transactions 
there ; and though I could ride a horse as well as any man in 
England, was no match with the English noblemen at backing 
him. Fifteen years after my horse, Bay Billow, by Sophy 
Hardcastle, out of Eclipse, lost the Newmarket stakes, for 
which he was the first favorite, I found that a noble earl, who 
shall be nameless, had got into his stable the morning before he 
ran ; and the consequence was that an outside horse won, and 
your humble servant was out to the amount of fifteen thousand 
pounds. Strangers had no chance in those days on the heath : 
and, though dazzled by the splendor and fashion assembled 
there, and surrounded by the greatest persons of the land, — the 
royal dukes, with their wives and splendid equipages ; old Graf- 
ton, with his queer bevy of company, and such men as Ancaster, 


love to describe ? There is something naive and simple in that time-honored style of novel- 
writing by which Prince Prettyman, at the end of his adventures, is put in possession of 
every worldly prosperity, as he has been endowed with every mental and bodily excellence 
previously. The novelist thinks that he can do no more for his darling hero than make 
him a lord Is it not a poor standard that, of the sutnvtum bomtm ? The greatest good in 
life is not to be a lord ; perhaps not even to be happy. Poverty, illness, a humpback, may 
be rewards and conditions of good, as well as that bodily prosperity which all of us uncon- 
sciously set up for worship. But this is a subject for an essay, not a note ; and it is best to 
allow Mr. Lyndon to resume the candid and ingenious narrative of. his virtues and defects. 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


Sandwich, Lorn, — a man might have considered himself certain 
of fair play and have been not a little proud of the society he 
kept ; yet, I promise you, that, exalted as it was, there was no 
set of men in Europe who knew how to rob more genteelly, to 
bubble a stranger, to bribe a jockey, to doctor a horse, or to 
arrange a betting-book. Even I couldn’t stand against these 
accomplished gamesters of the highest families in Europe. Was 
it my own want of style, or my want of a fortune ? I know not. 
But now I was arrived at the height of my ambition both my 
skill and my luck seemed to be deserting me. Everything I 
touched crumbled in my hand ; every speculation I had failed ; 
every agent I trusted deceived me. I am, indeed, one of those 
born to make, and not to keep fortunes ; for the qualities and 
energy which lead a man to effect the first are often the very 
causes of his ruin in the latter case : indeed I know of no other 
reason for the misfortunes which finally befell me.* 

I had always a taste for men of letters, and perhaps, if the 
truth must be told, have no objection to playing the fine gentle- 
man and patron among the wits. Such people are usually needy 
and of low birth, and have an instinctive awe and love of a 
gentleman and a laced coat ; as all must have remarked who 
have frequented their society. Mr. Reynolds, who was after- 
wards knighted, and certainly the most elegant painter of his day, 
was a pretty dexterous courtier of the wit tribe ; and it was 
through this gentleman, who painted a piece of me, Lady Lyn- 
don, and our little Bryan, which was greatly admired at the 
Exhibition (I was represented as quitting my wife, in the 
costume of the Tippleton yeomanry, of which I was major ; the 
child starting back from my helmet like what-d’ye-call’im — 
Hector’s son, as described by Mr. Pope in his “ Iliad ”) ; it was 
through Mr. Reynolds that I was introduced to a score of these 
gentlemen, and their great chief, Mr. Johnson. I always thought 
their great chief a great bear. He drank tea twice or thrice at 
my house, misbehaving himself most grossly ; treating my 
opinions with no more respect than those of a school-boy, and 
telling me to mind my horses and tailors, and not trouble my- 
self about letters. His Scotch bear-leader, Mr. Boswell, was a 
butt of the first quality. I never saw such a figure as the fellow 
cut in what he called a Corsican habit, at one of Mrs. Comely ’s 
balls, at Carlisle House, Soho. But that the stories connected 
with that same establishment are not the most profitable tales in 
the world, I could tell tales of scores of queer doings there. 

k The memoirs seem to have been written about the year 1S14, in that calm retreat 
which Fortune had selected for the author at the close of his life. 


224 


7 ///: MFMO/FS OF 


All the high and low demireps of the town gathered there, from 
his grace of Ancaster down to my countryman, poor Mr. Oliver 
Goldsmith the poet, and from the Duchess of Kingston down to 
the Bird of Paradise, or Kitty Fisher. Here I have met very queer 
characters, who came to queer ends too: poor Hackman, that 
afterwards was hanged for killing Miss Ray, and (on the sly) his 
Reverence Dr. Simony, whom my friend Sam Foote, of the 
“ Little Theatre,’’ bade to live even after forgery and the rope 
cut short the unlucky parson’s career. 

It was a merry place, London, in those days, and that’s the 
truth. I’m writing now in my gouty old age, and people have 
grown vastly more moral and matter-of-fact than they were at 
the close of the last century, when the world was young with me. 
There was a difference between a gentleman and a common 
fellow in those times. We wore silk and embroidery then. 
Now every man has the same coachman-like look in his belcher 
and caped coat, and there is no outward difference between my 
lord and his groom. Then it took a man of fashion a couple of 
hours to make his toilette, and he could show some taste and 
genius in the selecting it. What a blaze of splendor was a draw- 
ing-room, or an opera, of a gala night ! What sums of money 
were lost and won at the delicious faro-table ! My guilt curricle 
and outriders, blazing in green and gold, were very different 
objects to the equipages you see nowadays in the ring, with the 
stunted grooms behind them. A man could drink four times as 
much as the milksops nowadays can swallow : but ’tis useless 
expatiating on this theme. Gentlemen are dead and gone. 
The fashion has now turned upon your soldiers and sailors, 
and I grow quite moody and sad when I think of thirty years 

a s°- 

This is a chapter devoted to reminiscences of what was a 
very happy and splendid time with me, but presenting little of 
mark in the way of adventure; as is generally the case when 
times are happy and easy. It would seem idle to fill pages with 
accounts of the every-day occupations of a man of fashion, — • 
the fair ladies who smiled upon him, the dresses he wore, the 
matches he played, and won and lost. At this period of time, 
when youngsters are employed cutting the I r renchmen’s throats 
in Spain or France, lying out in bivouacs, and feeding off com- 
missariat beef and biscuit, they would not understand what a 
life their ancestors led ; and so I shall leave further discourse 
upon the pleasures of the times when even the Prince was a 
lad in leading-strings, when Charles Fox had not subsided into 
a mere statesman, and Bonaparte was a beggarly brat in his 
native island. 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


225 


Whilst these improvements were going on in my estates, — > 
my house, from an antique Norman castle, being changed to an 
elegant Greek temple, or palace — my gardens and woods losing 
their rustic appearance to be adapted to the most genteel French 
style — my child growing up at his mother’s knees, and my in- 
fluence in the country increasing, — it must not be imagined that 
I stayed in Devonshire all this while, and that I neglected to 
make visits to London, and my various estates in England and 
Ireland. 

I went to reside at the T recothick estate and the Polwellan 
Wheal, where I found, instead of profit, every kind of pettifog- 
ging chicanery ; I passed over in state to our territories in 
Ireland, where I entertained the gentry in a style the Lord 
Lieutenant himself could not equal ; gave the fashion to Dublin 
(to be sure it was a beggarly, savage city in those days ; and, 
since the time there has been a pother about the Union, and 
the misfortunes attending it, I have been at a loss to account 
for the mad praises of the old order of things, which the fond 
Irish patriots have invented) ; I say I set the fashion to Dub- 
lin ; and small praise to me, for a poor place it was in those 
times, whatever the Irish party may say. 

In a former chapter I have given you a description of it. It 
was the Warsaw of our part of the world : there was a splendid, 
ruined, half-civilized nobility, ruling over a half-savage popula- 
tion. I say half-savage advisedly. The commonalty in the 
streets were wild, unshorn, and in rags. The most public 
places were not safe after nightfall. The College, the public 
buildings, and the great gentry’s houses were splendid (the lat- 
ter unfinished for the most part) ; but the people were in a state 
more wretched than any vulgar I have ever known : the exercise 
of their religion was only half-allowed to them ; their clergy 
were forced to be educated out of the country ; their aristocracy 
was quite distinct from them ; there was a Protestant nobility, 
and in the towns, poor, insolent Protestant corporations, with 
a bankrupt retinue of mayors, aldermen, and municipal officers 
— all of whom figured in addresses and had the public voice in 
the country ; but there \vas no sympathy and connection between 
the upper and the lower people of the Irish. To one who had 
been bred so much abroad as myself, this difference between 
Catholic and Protestant was doubly striking ; and though as 
firm as a rock in my own faith, yet I could not help remember- 
ing my grandfather held a different one, and wondering that 
there should be such a political difference between the two. I 
passed among my neighbors for a dangerous leveller, for enter- 

15 


THE. MEMOIRS OF 


226 

tabling and expressing such opinions, and especially for asking 
the priest of the parish to my table at Castle Lyndon. He 
was a gentleman, educated at Salamanca, and, to my mind, a 
far better bred and more agreeable companion than his comrade 
the rector, who had but a dozen Protestants for his congrega- 
tion ; who was a lord’s son, to be sure, but he could hardly 
spell, and the great field of his labors was in the kennel and 
cockpit. 

I did not extend and beautify the house of Castle Lyndon 
as I had done our other estates, but contented myself with pay- 
ing an occasional visit there ; exercising an almost royal hosph 
tality, and keeping open house during my stay. When absent, 
I gave to my aunt, the widow Brady, and her six unmarried 
daughters (although they always detested me), permission to 
inhabit tliOv place ; my mother preferring my new mansion of 
Barryogue. 

And as my Lord Bullingdon was by this time grown exces- 
sively tall and troublesome, I determined to leave him under the 
care of a proper governor in Ireland, with Mrs. Brady and her 
six daughters to take care of him ; and he was welcome to fall 
in love with all the old ladies if he were so minded, and thereby 
imitate his step-father’s example. When tired of Castle Lyn- 
don, his lordship was at liberty to go and reside at my house 
with my mamma ; but there was no love lost between him and 
her, and, on account of my son Bryan, I think she hated him as 
cordially as ever I myself could possibly do. 

The county of Devon is not so lucky as the neighboring 
county of Cornwall, and has not the share of representatives 
which the latter possesses ; where I have known a moderate 
country gentleman, with a few score of hundreds per annum 
from Ids estate, treble his income by returning three or four 
Members to Parliament, and by the influence with Ministers 
which those seats gave him. The parliamentary interest of 
the house of Lyndon had been grossly neglected during my 
wife’s minority, and the incapacity of the carl her father; or 
to speak more correctly, it had been smuggled away from the 
Lyndon family altogether by the adroit old hypocrite of Tiptoff 
Castle, who acted as most kinsmen and guardians do by their 
wards and relatives, and rqbbed them. The Marquess of Tip- 
toff returned four Members to Parliament : two for the borough 
of Tipplcton, which, as all the world knows, lies at the foot of 
our estate of Ilackton, bounded on the other side by Tiptoff 
Park. For time out of mind we had sent Members for that 
borough, until Tiptoff, taking advantage of the late lord’s in** 


BARR Y L YNDOE . ESQ. 


227 


becility, put in his own nominees. When his eldest son be- 
came of age, of course my lord was to take his seat for Tipple- 
ton ; when Rigby (Nabob Rigby, who made his fortune under 
Clive in India) died, the marquess thought fit to bring down his 
second son, my Lord George Poynings, to whom I have intro- 
duced the reader in a former chapter, and determined, in his 
high mightiness, that he too should go on and swell the ranks 
of the opposition — the big old Whigs, with whom the marquess 
acted. 

Rigby had been for some time in an ailing condition pre- 
vious to his demise, and you may be sure that the circum- 
stance of his failing health had not been passed over by the 
gentry of the county, who were staunch government men for 
the most part, and hated my Lord Tiptoffs principles as dan- 
gerous and ruinous. “ We have been looking out for a man 
to fight against him, ,, said the squires to me; “we can only 
match Tiptoff out of Hackton Castle. You, Mr. Lyndon, 
are our man, and at the next county election we will swear to 
bring yO\i in.” 

I hated the Tiptoffs so, that I would have fought them at 
any election. They not only would not visit at Hackton, but 
declined to receive those who visited us ; they kept the wo- 
men of the country from receiving my wife.: they invented half 
the wild stories of my profligacy and extravagance with which 
the neighborhood was entertained ; they said I had frightened 
my wife into marriage, and that she was a lost woman ; they 
hinted that Bullingdon’s life was not secure under my roof, that 
his treatment was odious, and that I wanted to put him out of 
the way to make place for Bryan my son. I could scarce have 
a friend to Hackton, but they counted the bottles drank at my 
table. They ferreted out my dealings with my lawyers and 
agents. If a creditor was unpaid, every item of his bill was 
known at Tiptoff Hall ; if I looked at a farmer’s daughter, it 
was said I had ruined her. My faults are many, I confess, 
and as a domestic character, I can’t boast of any particular 
regularity, or temper ; but Lady Lyndon and I did not quarrel 
more than fashionable people do, and at first we always used to 
make it up pretty well. I am a man full of errors, certainly, but 
not the devil that these odious backbiters at Tiptoff represented 
me to be. For the first three years I never struck my wife but 
when I was in liquor. When I flung the carving-knife at Bub 
lingdon I was drunk, as everybody present can testify ; but as 
for having any systematic scheme against the poor lad, I can 
declare solemnly that, beyond merely hating him (and one’s 


228 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


inclinations are not in one’s power), I am guilty of no evil 
towards him. 

I had sufficient motives, then, for enmity against the Tip- 
toffs, and am not a man to let a feeling of that kind lie inac- 
tive. Though a Whig, or, perhaps, because a Whig, the mar- 
quess was one of the haughtiest men breathing, and treated 
commoners as his idol the great earl used to treat them — after 
he came to a coronet himself — as so many low vassals, who 
might be proud to lick his shoebuckle. When the Tippleton 
mayor and corporation waited upon him, he received them cov- 
ered, never offered Mr. Mayor a chair, but retired when the 
refreshments were brought, or had them served to the worship- 
ful aldermen in the steward’s room. These honest Britos s 
never rebelled against such treatment, until instructed to do 
so by my patriotism. No, the dogs liked to be bullied; and 
in the course of a long experience, I have met with but very 
few Englishmen who are not of their way of thinking. 

It was not until I opened their eyes that they knew their 
degradation. I invited the Mayor to Hackton, and Mrs. May- 
oress (a very buxom, pretty groceress she was, by the way) I 
made sit by my wife, and drove them both out to the races in 
my curricle. Lady Lyndon fought very hard against this con- 
descension ; but I had a way with her, as the saying is, and 
though she had a temper, yet I had a better one. A temper, 
psha ! A wild-cat has a temper, but a keeper can get the 
better of it ; and I know very few women in the world whom 
I could not master. 

Well, I made much of the mayor and corporation ; sent 
them bucks for their dinners, or asked them to mine ; made a 
point of attending their assemblies, dancing with their wives 
and daughters, going through, in short, all the acts of politeness 
which are necessary on such occasions: and though old Tiptoff 
must have seen my goings on, yet his head was so much in the 
clouds, that he never once condescended to imagine his dynasty 
could be overthrown in his own town of Tippleton, and issued 
his mandates as securely as if he had been the grand Turk, and 
the Tippletonians no better than so many slaves of his will. 

Every post which brought us any account of Rigby’s increas- 
ing illness, was the sure occasion of a dinner from me ; so much 
so, that my friends of the hunt used to laugh and say, “ Rigby’s 
worse ; there’s a corporation dinner at Ilackton.” 

It was in 1776, when the American war broke out, that I 
came into Parliament. My Lord Chatham, whose wisdom his 
party in those days used to call superhuman, raised his oracular 
voice in the House of Peers against the American contest ; and 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ . 


229 


my countryman, Mr. Burke- — a great philosopher, but a plaguey 
long-winded orator — was the champion of the rebels in the 
Commons — where, however, thanks to British patriotism, he 
could get very few to back him. Old Tiptoff would have sworn 
black was white if the great earl had bidden him ; and he made 
his son give up his commission in the Guards, in imitation of 
my Lord Pitt, who resigned his ensigncy rather than fights 
against what he called his American brethren. 

But this was a height of patriotism extremely little relished 
in England, where, ever since the breaking out of hostilities, our 
people hated the Americans heartily ; and where, when we heard 
of the fight of Lexington, and the glorious victory of Bunker's 
Hill (as we used to call it in those clays), the nation flushed out 
in its usual hot-headed anger. The talk was all against the 
philosophers after that, and the people were most indomitably 
loyal. It was not until the land-tax was increased, that the 
gentry began to grumble a little ; but still my party in the West 
was very strong against the Tiptoffs, and I determined to take 
the field and win as usual. 

The old marquess neglected every one of the decent pre- 
cautions which are requisite in a parliamentary campaign. He 
signified to the corporation and freeholders his intention of 
presenting his son, Lord George, and his desire that the latter 
should be elected their burgess ; but he scarcely gave so much 
as a gla^s of beer to whet the devotedness of his adherents : 
and I, as I need not say, engaged every tavern in Tippleton in 
my behalf. 

There is no need to go over the twenty-times-told tale of an 
election. I rescued the borough of Tippleton from the hands 
of Lord Tiptoff and his son, Lord George. I had a savage 
sort of satisfaction, too, in forcing my wife (who had been at 
one time exceedingly smitten by her kinsman, ^s I have 
already related,) to take part against him, and to wear and dis- 
tribute my colors when the day of election came. And when 
we spoke at one another, I told the crowd that I had beaten 
Lord George in love, that I had beaten him in war, and that I 
would now beat him in Parliament ; and so I did, as the event 
proved : for, to the inexpressible anger of the old marquess, 
Barry Lyndon, Esquire, was returned Member of Parliament 
for Tippleton, in place of John Rigby, Esquire, deceased ; and 
I threatened him at the next election to turn him out of both 
his seats, and went to attend my duties in Parliament. 

It was then I seriously determined on achieving for myself 
the Irish peerage, to be enjoyed after me by my beloved son # 
and heir. 


* 3 ° 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

WHICH MY GOOD FORTUNE BEGINS TO WAVER. 

And now, if any people should be disposed to think my 
history immoral (for I have heard some assert that I was a man 
,who never deserved that so much prosperity should fall to my 
ishare), I will beg those cavillers to do me thpTavor to read the 
conclusion of my adventures ; when they will see it was no such 
great prize that I had won, and that wealth, splendor, thirty thou- 
sand per annum, and a seat in Parliament, are often purchased 
at too dear a rate, when one has to buy those enjoyments at the 
price of personal liberty, and saddled with the charge of a 
troublesome wife. 

They are the deuce, these troublesome wives, and that is the 
truth. No man knows until he tries how wearisome and dis- 
heartening the burthen of one of them is, and how the annoy- 
ance grows and strengthens from year to year, and the courage 
becomes weaker to bear it ; so that that trouble which seemed 
light and trivial the first year, becomes intolerable ten years 
after. I have heard of one of the classical fellows in the dic- 
tionary who began by carrying a calf up a hill every day, and 
so continued until the animal grew to be a bull, which lie still 
easily accommodated upon his shoulders ; but take my word for 
( it, young unmarried gentlemen, a wife is a very much harder 
pack to the back than the biggest heifer in Smith field : and, if 
I can prevent one of you from marrying, the “ Memoirs of Barry 
Lyndon, Esq.,” will not be written in vain. Not that my lady 
was a scold or a shrew, as some wives are ; I could have 
managed to have cured her of that ; but she was of a cowardly, 
crying, melancholy, maudlin temper, which is to me still more 
odious : do what one would to please her, she would never be 
happy or in good humor. I left her alone after a while ; and 
because, as was natural in my case, where a disagreeable home 
obliged me to seek amusement and companions abroad, she 
added a mean, detestable jealousy to all her other faults: I 
iCould not for some time pay the commonest attention to any 
other woman, but my Lady Lyndon must weep, and wring her 
hands, and threaten to commit suicide, and I know not what. 

Her death would have been no comfort to me, as I leave 
any person of common prudence to imagine ; for that scoundrel 



BARKY LYNDON, ESQ, 


231 


of a young Bullingdon (who was now growing up a tall, gawky, 
swarthy lad, and about to become my greatest plague and 
annoyance) would have inherited every penny of the property, 
and I should have been left considerably poorer even than when 
I married the widow : for I spent my personal fortune as well 
as the lady’s income in the keeping up of our rank, and. was 
always too much a man of honor and spirit to save a penny of 
Lady Lyndon’s income. Let this be flung in the teeth, of iny 
detractors, who say I never could have so injured the Lyndon 
property had I not been making a private purse for myself ; and 
who believe that, even in my present painful situation, I hav£ 
hoards of gold laid by somewhere, and could come out as a 
Croesus when I choose. I never raised a shilling upon Lady 
Lyndon’s property but I spent it like a man of honor ; besides 
incurring numberless personal obligations for money, which all 
went to the common stock. Independent of the Lyndon mort- 
gages and incumbrances, I owe myself at least one hundred 
and twenty thousand pounds, which I spent while in occupancy 
of my wife’s estate : so that I may justly say that property is 
indebted to me in the above-mentioned sum. 

Although I have described the utter disgust and distaste 
which speedily took possession of my breast as regarded Lady 
Lyndon ; and although I took no particular pains (for I am all 
frankness and aboveboard) to disguise my feelings in general, 
yet she was of such a mean spirit, that she pursued me with her 
regard in spite of my indifference to her, and would kindle u£> 
at the smallest kind word I spoke to her. The fact is, between 
my respected reader and myself, that I was one of the hand- 
somest and most dashing young men of England in those days, 
and my wife was violently in love with me; and though I say 
it who shouldn’t, as the phrase goes, my wife was not the only 
woman of rank in London who had a favorable opinion of th6 
humble Irish adventurer. What a riddle these women are, I 
have often thought ! I have seen the most elegant creatures at 
St. James’s grow wild for love of the coarsest and most vulgar 
of men; the cleverest women passionately admire the most 
illiterate of our sex, and so on. There is no end to the con - 
trariety in the foolish creatures ; and though I don’t mean to 
hint that / am vulgar or illiterate, as the persons mentioned 
above (I would cut the throat of any man who dared to whisper 
a word against my birth or my breeding), yet I have shown that 
Lady Lyndon had plenty of reason to dislike me if she chose : 
but, like the rest of her silly sex, she was governed by infatua- 
tion, not reason ; and, up to the very last day of our being 


232 


THE MEMOHyJ OF 


together, would be reconciled to me, and fondle me, if I ad* 
dressed her a single kind word. 

“Ah,” she would say, in these moments of tenderness — “Ah, 
Redmond , , if you would always be so ! ” And in these fits of love 
she was the most easy creature in the world to be persuaded, 
and would have signed away her whole property, had it been 
possible. And, I must confess, it was with very little attention 
on my part that I could bring her into good humor. To walk 
with her on the Mall, or at Ranelagh, to attend her to church 
at St. James’s, to purchase any little present or trinket for her, 
was enough to coax her. Such is female inconsistency ! The 
next day she would be calling me “ Mr. Barry ” probably, and 
be bemoaning her miserable fate that she ever should have 
been united to such a monster. So it was she was pleased to 
call one of the most brilliant men in his Majesty’s three king- 
doms : and I warrant me other ladies had a much more flatter- 
ing opinion of me. 

Then she would threaten to leave me ; but I had a hold of 
her in the person of her son, of whom she was passionately 
fond: I don’t know why, for she had always neglected Bulling- 
don, her elder son, and never bestowed a thought upon his 
health, his welfare, or his education. 

It was our young boy, then, who formed the great bond of 
union between me and her ladyship ; and there was no plan of 
ambition I could propose in which she would not join for the 
poor lad’s behoof, and no expense she would not eagerly incur, 
if it might by any means be shown to tend to his advancement. 
I can tell you, bribes were administered, and in high places 
too, — so near the royal person of his Majesty, that you would 
be astonished were I to mention what great personages conde- 
scended to receive our loans. 1 got from the English and Irish 
heralds a description and detailed pedigree of the Barony of 
Barryogue, and claimed respectfully to be reinstated in my an- 
cestral titles, and also to be rewarded with the Viscounty of 
Ball/barry. “This head would become a coronet,” my lady 
would sometimes say, in her fond moments, smoothing down 
my hair ; and, indeed, there is many a puny whipster in their 
lordships’ house who has neither my presence nor my courage, 
my pedigree, nor any of my merits. 

The striving after this peerage I consider to have been one 
of the most unlucky of all my unlucky dealings at this period. 
I made unheard-of sacrifices to bring it about. I lavished 
money here and diamonds there. 1 bought lands at ten times 
their value ; purchased pictures and articles of vertu at ruinous 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


2 33 


prices. I gave repeated entertainments to those friends to my 
claims who, being about the royal person, were likely to advance 
it. I lost many a bet to the royal dukes his Majesty’s broth- 
ers : but let these matters be forgotten, and, because of my 
private injuries, let me not be deficient in loyalty to my sover? 
eign. 

The only person in this transaction whom I shall mention 
openly, is that old scamp and swindler, Gustavus Adolphus, 
thirteenth Earl of Crabs. This nobleman was one of the gen- 
tlemen of his Majesty’s closet, and one with whom the revered 
monarch was on terms of considerable intimacy. A close re- 
gard had sprung up between them in the old King’s time ; 
when his royal highness, playing at battledore and shuttlecock 
with the young lord on the landing-place of the great staircase 
at ICew, in some lfioment of irritation, the Prince of Wales 
kicked the young earl down stairs, who, falling, broke his leg. 
The prince’s hearty repentance for his violence caused him to 
ally himself closely with the person whom he had injured , and 
when his Majesty came to the throne there was no man, it is 
said, of whom the Earl of Bute was so jealous as of my Lord 
Crabs. The latter was poor and extravagant, and Bute got him 
out of the way, by sending him on the Russian and other em- 
bassies ; but on this favorite’s dismissal, Crabs sped back from 
the Continent, and was appointed almost immediately to a place 
about his Majesty’s person. 

It was with this disreputable nobleman that I contracted 
an unlucky intimacy ; when, fresh and unsuspecting, I first es- 
tablished myself in town, after my marriage with Lady Lyndon : 
and, as Crabs was really one of the most entertaining fellows 
in the world, I took a sincere pleasure in his company ; besides 
the interested desire I had in cultivating the society of a man 
who was so near the person of the highest personage in the 
realm. 

To hear the fellow, you would fancy that there was scarce 
any appointment made in which he had not a share. He told 
me, for instance, of Charles Fox being turned out of his place 
a day before poor Charley himself was aware of the fact. Lie 
told me when the Howes were coming back from America, and 
who was to succeed to the command there. Not to multiply 
instances, it was upon this person that I fixed my chief reliance 
for the advancement of my claim to the Barony of Barryogue 
and the Viscounty which I proposed to get. 

One of the main causes of expense which this ambition of 
mine entailed upon me was the fitting out and arming a coin- 


*34 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


pany of infantry from the Castle Lyndon and Hackton estates, 
m Ireland, which I offered to my gracious sovereign for the 
campaign against the American rebels. These troops, su- 
perbly equipped and clothed, were embarked at Portsmouth in 
the year 1778 ; and the patriotism of the gentleman who had 
raised them was so acceptable at court, that, on being presented 
by my Lord North, his Majesty condescended to notice me par- 
ticularly, and said, “ That’s right, Mr. Lyndon, raise another 
Company ; and go with them, too ! ” But this was by no 
means, as the reader may suppose, to my notions. A man 
ivith thirty thousand pounds per annum is a fool to risk his life 
like a common beggar ; and on this account I have always 
admired the conduct of my friend Jack Bolter, who had been a 
most active and resolute cornet of horse, and, as such, engaged 
fri every scrape and skirmish which could fall to his lot ; but 
just before the battle of Minden he received news that his 
uncle, the great army contractor, was dead, and had left him 
five thousand per annum. Jack that instant applied for leave ; 
and, as it was refused him on the eve of a general action, my 
gentleman took it, and never fired a pistol again : except against 
an officer who questioned his courage, and whom he winged in 
such a cool and determined manner, as showed all the world 
that it was from prudence and a desire of enjoying his money, 
not from cowardice, that he quitted the profession of arms. 

When this Plackton company was raised, my stepson, who 
was now sixteen years of age, was most eager to be allowed 
to join it, and I would have gladly consented to have been 
rid of the young man ; but his guardian, Lord Tiptoff, who 
thwarted me in everything, refused his permission, and the lad’s 
military inclinations were baulked. If he could have gone on 
the expedition, and a rebel rifle had put an end to him, I be- 
lieve, to tell the truth, I should not have been grieved over- 
much ; and I should have had the pleasure of seeing my other 
son the heir to the estate which his father had won with so 
much pains. 

The education of this young nobleman had been, I confess, 
some of the loosest ; and perhaps the truth is, I did neglect the 
brat. He was of so wild, savage, and insubordinate a nature, 
that I never had the least regard for him ; and before me and 
his mother, at least, was so moody and dull, that I thought in- 
struction thrown away upon him, and left him for the most part 
to shift for himself. For two whole years he remained in Ire- 
land, away from us ; and when in England, we kept him mainly 
al Hackton, never caring to have the uncouth, ungainly lad in 


BARR Y L YNDOA\ ESQ. 235 

the genteel company in the capital in which we naturally 
mingled. My own poor boy, on the contrary, was the most 
polite and engaging child ever seen : it was a pleasure to treat 
him with kindness and distinction; and before he was five, 
years old, the little fellow was the pink of fashion, beauty, and 
good breeding. ; 

In fact he could not have been otherwise, with the care both; 
his parents bestowed upon him, and the attentions that were 
lavished upon him in every way. When he was four years old, 
I quarrelled with the English nurse who had attended upoi> 
him, and about whom my wife had been so jealous, and proi 
cured for him a French gouvernante, who had lived with families 
of the first quality in Paris ; and who, of course, must set my 
Lady Lyndon jealous too. Under the care of this young woman, 
my little rogue learned to chatter French most charmingly. It; 
would have done your heart good to hear the dear rascal swear, 
Mort de mavie ! and to see him stamp his little foot, and send 
the manans and canaille of the domestics to the trente milh 
diables . Pie was precocious in all things : at a very early age 
he would mimic everybody ; at five, he would sit at table, and, 
drink his glass of champagne with the best of us ; and his 
nurse would teach him little French catches, and the last Pari-r 
sian songs of Vade and Collard, — pretty songs they were too ; 
and would make such of his hearers as understood French 
burst with laughing, and, I promise you, scandalize some of 
the old dowagers who were admitted into the society of his 
mamma ; not that there were many of them ; for I did not en- 
courage the visits of what you call respectable people to Lady 
Lyndon. They are sad spoilers of sport, — tale-bearers, en-t 
vious, narrow-minded people ; making mischief between man 
and wife. Whenever any of these grave personages in hoops 
and high heels used to make their appearance at Hackton, or 
in Berkeley Square, it was my chief pleasure to frighten them 
off ; and I would make my little Bryan dance, sing, and play 
the (liable a quatre , and aid him myself so as to scare the old 
frumps. 

I never shall forget the solemn remonstrances of our old 
square-toes of a rector at Hackton, who made one or iwo vain 
attempts to teach little Bryan Latin, and with whose innumera- 
ble children I sometimes allowed the boy to associate. They 
learned some of Bryan’s French songs from him, which their 
mother, a poor soul who understood pickles and custards much 
better than French, used fondly to encourage them in singing.; 
but which their father one day hearing, he sent Miss Sarah to 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


236 

her bedroom and bread and water for a week, and solemnly 
horsed Master Jacob in the presence of all his brothers and 
sisters, and of Bryan, to whom he hoped that flogging would act 
as a warning. But my little rogue kicked and plunged at the 
old parson’s shins until he was obliged to get his sexton to 
hold him down, and swore, corbleu , mo r bleu, vc?itreblcu, that his 
young friend Jacob should not be maltreated. After this scene, 
liis reverence forbade Bryan the rectory-house ; on which I 
swore that his eldest son, who was bringing up for the ministry, 
should never have the succession of the living of Hackton, 
which I had thoughts of bestowing on him ; and his father said 
with a canting hypocritical air, which 1 hate, that heaven’s will 
must be done ; that he would not have his children disobedient 
or corrupted for the sake of a bishopric ; and wrote me a pom- 
pous and solemn letter, charged with Latin quotations, taking 
farewell of me and my house. “ I do so with regret/’ added 
the old gentleman, “for I have received so many kindnesses 
from the Hackton family that it goes to my heart to be disunited 
from them. My poor, I fear, may suffer in consequence of my 
separation from you, and my being henceforward unable to 
bring to your notice instances of distress and affliction ; which, 
when they were known to you, I will do you the justice to say, 
your generosity was always prompt to relieve.” 

There may have been some truth in this, for the old gentle- 
man was perpetually pestering me with petitions, and I know 
for a certainty, from his own charities, was often without a 
shilling in his pocket ; but I suspect the good dinners at Hack- 
ton had a considerable share in causing his regrets at the dis- 
solution of our intimacy : and I know that his wife was quite 
sorry to forego the acquaintance of Bryan } s gouvernante, Made- 
moiselle Louison, who had all the newest French fashions at her 
fingers’ ends, and who never went to the rectory but you would 
see the girls of the family turn out in new sacks or mantles the 
Sunday after. 

I used to punish the old rebel by snoring very loud in my 
pew on Sundays during sermon-time ; and I got a governor 
presently for Bryan, and a chaplain of my own, when he became 
of age sufficient to be separated from the women’s society and 
guardianship. His English nurse I married to my head gardener 
with a handsome portion ; his French gouvernante I bestowed 
upon my faithful German Fritz, not forgetting the dowry in the 
latter instance ; and they set up a French dining-house in Soho, 
and I believe at the time I write they are richer in the world’s 
goods than their generous and free-handed master. 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ, 


237 


For Bryan I. now got a young gentleman from Oxford, the 
Rev. Edmund Lavender, who was commissioned to teach him 
Latin, when the boy was in the humor, and to ground him in 
history, grammar, and the other qualifications of a gentleman. 
Lavender was a precious addition to our society at Llackton. 
He was the means of making a deal of fun there. He was the 
butt of all our jokes, and bore them with the most admirable 
and martyrlike patience. He was one of that sort of men who 
would rather be kicked by a gieat man than not be noticed by 
him; and I have often put his wig into the fire in the face of 
the company, when he would laugh at the joke as well as any 
man there. It was a delight to put him on a high-mettled horse 
and send him after the hounds, — pale, sweating, calling on us, 
for heaven’s sake, to stop, and holding on for the dear life by 
the mane and the crupper. How it happened that the fellow 
was never killed I know not ; but I suppose hanging is the way 
in which his neck will be broke. He never met with any acci- 
dent, to speak of, in our hunting-matches : but you were pretty 
sure to find him at dinner in his place at the bottom of the table 
making the punch, whence he would be carried off fuddled to 
bed before the night was over. Many a time have Bryan and I 
painted his face black on those occasions. We put him into a 
haunted room, and frightened his soul out of his body with 
ghosts : we let loose cargoes of rats upon his bed ; we cried 
fire, and filled his boots with water ; we cut the legs of his 
preaching-chair, and filled his sermon-book with snuff. Poor 
Lavender bore it all with patience ; and at our parties, or when 
we. came to London, was amply repaid by being allowed to sit 
with the gentlefolks, and to fancy himself in the society of men 
of fashion. It was good to hear the contempt with which he 
talked about our rector. “ He has a son, sir, who is a servitor : 
and a servitor at a small college,” he would say. “ How could 
you, my dear^sir, think of giving the reversion of Hackton to 
such a low-bred creature ? ” 

I should now speak of my other son, at least my Lady 
Lyndon’s, I mean the Viscount Bullingdon. I kept him in 
Ireland for some years, under the guardianship of my mother, 
whom I had installed at Castle Lyndon ; and great, I promise 
you, was her state in that occupation, and prodigious the good 
soul’s splendor and haughty bearing. With all her oddities 
the Castle Lyndon estate was the best managed of all our pos- 
sessions , the rents were excellently paid, the charges of getting 
them in smaller than they would have been under the manage- 
ment of any steward. It was astonishing what small expenses 




THE MEMOIRS OF 


the good widow incurred; although she kept up the dignity of 
the two families, as she would say. She had a set of domestics 
to attend upon the young lord ; she never went out herself but 
in an old gilt coach and six ; the house was kept clean and 
tight ; the furniture and gardens in the best repair ; and, in 
our occasional visits to Ireland, we never found any house we 
visited in such good condition as our own. There were a score 
of ready servingdasses, and half as many trim men about the 
Castle ; and everything in as fine condition as the best house- 
keeper could make it. All this she did with scarcely any 
charges to us : for she fed sheep and cattle in the parks, and 
made a handsome profit of them at Ballinasloe : she supplied 
I don’t know how many towns with butter and bacon ; and the 
fruit and vegetables from the gardens of Castle Lyndon got 
the highest prices in Dublin market. She had no waste in the 
kitchen, as there used to be in most of our Irish houses; and 
there was no consumption of liquor in the cellars, for the old 
lady drank water, and saw little or no company. All her 
society was a couple of the girls of my ancient flame, Nora 
Brady, now Mrs. Quin ; who with her husband had spent almost 
all their property, and who came to see me once in London, 
looking very old, fat, and slatternly, with two dirty children at 
her side. She wept very much when she saw me, called me 
“ Sir ” and “Mr. Lyndon,” at which I was not sorry, and begged 
me to help her husband ; which I did, getting him, through my 
friend Lord Crabs, a place in the excise in Ireland, and paying 
the passage of his family and himself to that country. I found 
him a dirty, cast-down, snivelling drunkard ; and, looking at 
poor Nora, could not but wonder at the days when I had 
thought her a divinity. But if ever I have had a regard for a 
woman, I remain through life her constant friend, and could 
mention a thousand such instances of my generous and faithful 
disposition. 

Young Bullingdon, however, was almost the only person 
with whom she was concerned that my mother could not keep 
in order. The accounts she sent me of him at first were such 
as gave my paternal heart considerable pain. He rejected ah 
regularity and authority. He would absent himself for weeks 
from the house on sporting or other expeditions. He was when 
at home silent and queer, refusing to make my mother’s game 
at piquet of evenings, but plunging into all sorts of musty old 
books, with which he muddled his brains ; more at ease laugh- 
ing and chatting with the pipers and maids in the servants’- 
hall, than with the gentry in the drawing-room ; always cutting 


BARRY L YNDON, ESQ. 


2 39 


jibes and jokes at Mrs. Barry, at which she (who was rather a 
slow woman at repartee) would chafe violently : in fact, leading, 
a life of insubordination and scandal. And, to crown all, the 
young scapegrace took to frequenting the society of the Romish 
priest of the parish — a threadbare rogue from some Popish 
seminary in France or Spain — rather than the company of the 
vicar of Castle Lyndon, a gentleman of Trinity, who kept his 
hounds and drank his two bottles a day. 

Regard for the lad’s religion made me not hesitate then how 
I should act towards him. If I have any principle which has 
guided me through life, it has been respect for the Establish- 
ment, and a hearty scorn and abhorrence of all other forms of 
belief. I therefore sent my French body-servant, in the year 
17 — , to Dublin with a commission to bring the young repro- 
bate over ; and the report brought to me was that he had passed 
the whole of the last night of his stay in Ireland with his Popish 
friend at the mass-house ; that he and my mother had a violent 
quarrel on the very last day; that, on the contrary, he'kissed 
Biddy and Dosy, her two nieces, who seemed very sorry that 
he should go ; and that being pressed to go and visit the rector, 
he absolutely refused, saying he was a wicked old Pharisee, 
inside whose doors he would never set his foot. The doctor 
wrote me a 'letter, warning me against the deplorable errors of 
this young imp of perdition, as he called him ; and I could see 
that there was no love lost between them. But it appeared 
that, if not agreeable to the gentry of the country, young 
Bullingdon had a huge popularity among the common people. 
There was a regular crowd weeping round the gate when his 
coach took its departure. Scores of the ignorant, savage 
wretches ran for miles along by the side of the chariot ; and 
some went even so far as to steal away before his departure, 
and appear at the Pigeon-House at Dublin to bid him a last 
farewell. It was with considerable difficulty that some of these 
people could be kept from secreting themselves in the vessel, 
and accompanying their young lord to England. 

To do the young scoundrel justice, when he came among 
us, he was a manly, noble-looking lad, and everything in his 
bearing and appearance betokened the high blood from which 
he came. He was the very portrait of some of the dark cav- 
aliers of the Lyndon race, whose pictures hung in the gallery at 
Hackton : where the lad was fond of spending the chief part of 
his time, occupied with the musty old books which he took out 
of the library, and which I hate to see a young man of spirit 
poring over. Always in my company he preserved the most 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


240 

rigid silence, and a haughty, scornful demeanor ; which was so 
much the more disagreeable because there was nothing in his 
behavior 1 could actually take hold of to find fault with : 
although his whole conduct was insolent and supercilious to the 
highest degree. His mother was very much agitated at re- 
ceiving him on his arrival ; if he felt any such agitation he cer- 
tainly did not show it. He made her a very low and formal 
bow when he kissed her hand ; and, when I held out mine, put 
both hands behind his back, stared me full in the face, and 
bent his head,* saying, “ Mr. Barry Lyndon, I believe turned 
on his heel, and began talking about the state of the weather to 
his mother, whom he always styled “Your Ladyship.” She 
was angry at this pert bearing, and, when they were alone, re- 
buked him sharply for not shaking hands with his father. 

“ My father, madam ? ” said he ; “ surely you mistake. My 
father was the Right Honorable Sir Charles Lyndon. / at least 
have not forgotten him, if others have.” It was a declaration 
of war to me, as I saw at once ; though I declare I was willing 
enough to have received the boy well on his coming amongst 
us, and to have lived with him on terms of friendliness. But as 
men serve me I serve them. Who can blame me for my after- 
quarrels with this young reprobate, or lay upon my shoulders 
the evils which afterwards befell ? Perhaps I lost my temper, 
and my subsequent treatment of him was hard. But it was he 
began the quarrel, and not I ; and the evil consequences which 
ensued were entirely of his creating. 

As it is best to nip vice in the bud, and for a master of a 
family to exercise his authority in such a manner as that there 
may be no question about it, I took the earliest opportunity of 
coming to close quarters with Master Bullingdon ; and the day 
after his arrival among us, upon his refusal to perform some 
duty which I requested of him, I had him conveyed to my 
study, and thrashed him soundly. This process, I confess, at 
first, agitated me a good deal, for I had never laid a whip on a 
lord before ; but I got speedily used to the practice, and his 
back and my whip became so well acquainted, that I warrant 
there was very little ceremony between us after a while. 

If I were to repeat all the instances of the insubordination 
and brutal conduct of young Bullingdon, I should weary the 
reader. His perseverance in resistance, was I think, even 
greater than mine in correcting him : for a man, be he ever so 
much resolved to do his duty as a parent, can’t be flogging his 
children all day, or for every fault they commit : and though 1 
got the character of being so cruel a stepfather to him, I pledge 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


2 1 I 

my word I spared him correction when he merited it many 
more times than I administered it. Besides, there was eight 
clear months in the year when he was quit of me, during the 
time of my presence in London, at my place in Parliament and 
at the court of my sovereign. 

At this period I made no difficulty to allow him to profit by 
the Latin and Greek of the ol'd rector ; who had christened 
him, and had a considerable influence over the wayward lad. 
After a scene or a quarrel between us, it was generally to the 
rectory-house that the young rebel would fly for refuge and 
counsel ; and I must own that the parson was a pretty just 
umpire between us in our disputes. Onte he led the boy back 
to Hackton by the hand, and actually brought him into my 
presence, although he had vowed never to enter the doors in 
my lifetime again, and said, “ He had brought his lordship to 
acknowledge his error, and submit to any punishment I might 
think proper to inflict.’ , Upon which I caned him in the presence 
of two or three friends of mine, with whom I was sitting drink- 
ing at the time ; and to do him justice, he bore a pretty severe 
punishment without wincing or crying in the least. This will 
show that I was not too severe in my treatment upon the lad, 
as I had the authority of the clergyman himself for inflicting 
the correction which I thought proper. 

Twice or thrice, Lavender, Bryan’s governor, attempted to 
punish my Lord Bullingdon ; but I promise you the rogue was 
too strong for him , and levelled the Oxford man to the ground 
with a chair : greatly to the delight of little Bryan, who cried 
out, “ Bravo, Bully ! thump him, thump him ! ” And Bully cer- 
tainly did, to the governor’s heart’s content ; who never at- 
tempted personal chastisement afterwards ; but contented him- 
self by bringing the tales of his lordship’s misdoings to me, his 
natural protector and guardian. 

With the chilcl, Bullingdon was, strange to say, pretty tract- 
able. He took a liking for the little fellow, — as, indeed, every- 
body who saw that darling boy did, — liked him the more, he 
said, because he was “half a Lyndon.” And well he might like 
him, for many a time, at the dear angel’s intercession of “ Papa, 
don’t flog Bully to-day ! ” I have held my hand, and saved him 
a horsing, which lie richly deserved. 

With his mother, at first, he would scarcely deign to have 
any communication. He said she was no longer one of the 
family. Why should he love her, as she had never been a 
mother to him ? But it will give the reader an idea of the 
dogged obstinacy and surliness of the lad’s character, when I 

16 


24 2 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


mention one trait regarding him. It has been made a mattei 
of complaint against me, that I denied him the education be- 
fitting a gentleman, and never sent him to college or to school ; 
but the fact is, it was of his own choice that he went to neither. 
He had the offer repeatedly from me (who wished to see as 
little of his impudence as possible), but he as repeatedly de- 
clined ; and, for a long time, I could not make out what was 
the charm which kept him in a house where he must have been 
far from comfortable. 

It came out, however, at last. There used to be very fre- 
quent disputes between my Lady Lyndon and myself, in which 
sometimes she was wrong, sometimes I was ; and which, as 
neither of us had very angelical tempers, used to run very high. 
I was often in liquor; and when in that condition, what gentle- 
man is master of himself ? Perhaps I did, in this state, use my 
lady rather roughly ; fling a glass or two at her, and call her by 
a few names that were not complimentary. I may have threat- 
ened her life (which it was obviously my interest not to take), 
and have frightened her, in a word, considerably. 

After one of these disputes, in which she ran screaming 
through the galleries, and I, as tipsy as a lord, came staggering 
after, it appears Bullingdon was attracted out of his room by 
the noise ; as I came up with her, the audacious rascal tripped 
up my heels, which were not very steady, and catching his 
fainting mother in his arms, took her into his own room ; where 
he, upon her entreaty, swore he would never leave the house as 
long as she continued united with me. I knew nothing of the 
vow, or indeed of the tipsy frolic which was the occasion of it ; 
I was taken up “ glorious,” as the phrase is, by my servants, 
and put to bed, and, in the morning, had no more recollection 
of what had occurred any more than of what happened when I 
was a baby at the breast. Lady Lyndon told me of the cir- 
cumstance years after ; and I mention it here, 'as it enables me 
to plead honorably “ not guilty ” to one of the absurd charges 
of cruelty trumped up against me with respect to my stepson. 
Let my detractors apologize, if they dare, for the conduct of a 
graceless ruffian who trips up the heels of his own natural 
guardian and stepfather after dinner. 

This circumstance served to unite mother and son for a 
little ; but their characters were too different. I believe she 
was too fond of me ever to allow him to be sincerely reconciled 
to her. As lie grew up to be a man, his hatred towards me 
assumed an intensity quite wicked to think of (and which I 
promise you I returned with interest) : and it was at the age of 


BARR Y L YNDOX, ESQ. 


2 43 

sixteen, I think, that the impudent young hang-dog, on my 
return from Parliament one summer, and on my proposing to 
cane him as usual, gave me to understand that he would submit 
to no farther chastisement from me, and said, grinding his 
teeth, that he would shoot me if I laid hands on him. I looked 
at him ; he was grown, in fact, to be a tall young man, and I 
gave up that necessary part of his education. 

It was about this time that I raised the company which was 
to serve in America ; and my enemies in the country (and since 
my victory over the Tiptoffs I scarce need say I had many of 
them) began to propagate the most shameful reports regarding 
my conduct to that precious young scapegrace my stepson, and 
to insinuate that I actually wished to get rid of him. Thus my 
loyalty to my sovereign was actually construed into a horrid, 
unnatural attempt on my part on Bullingdon’s life ; and it was 
said that I had raised the American corps for the sole purpose 
of getting the young viscount to command it, and so of getting 
rid of him. I am not sure that they had not fixed upon the 
name of the very man in the company who was ordered to des- 
patch him at the first general action, and the bribe I was to 
give him for this delicate piece of service. 

But the truth is, I was of opinion then (and though the ful- 
filment of ray prophecy has been delayed, yet I make no doubt 
it will be brought to pass ere long), that my Lord Bullingdon 
needed none of my aid in sending hint into the other world ; 
but had a happy knack of finding the way thither himself, 
which he would be sure to pursue. In truth, he began upon 
this way early : of all the violent, daring, disobedient scape- 
graces that ever caused an affectionate parent pain, he was cer- 
tainly the most incorrigible ; there was no beating him, or coax- 
ing him, or taming him. 

For instance, with my little son, when his governor brought 
him into the room as we were over the bottle after dinner, my 
lord would begin his violent and undutiful sarcasms at me. 

“ Dear child,” he would say, beginning to caress and fon- 
dle him, “ what a pity it is I am not dead for thy sake ! The 
Lyndons would then have a worthier representative, and enjoy 
alt the benefit of the illustrious blood cf the Barrys of Barry- 
ogue ; would they not, Mr. Barry Lyndon ? ” He always chose 
the days when company, or the clergy or gentry of the neigh- 
borhood, were present, to make these insolent speeches to me. 

Another day (it was Bryan’s birth-day) we were giving a 
grand ball and gala at Hackton, and it was time for my little 
Bryan to make his appearance among us, as he usually did in 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


244 

the smartest little court-suit you ever saw (ah me ; but it brings 
tears into my old eyes now to think of the bright looks of that 
darling little face). There was a great crowding and tittering 
when the child came in, led by his half-brother, who walked 
into the dancing-room (would you believe it?) in his stocking- 
feet, leading little Bryan by the hand, paddling about in the 
great shoes of the elder ! “ Don’t you think he fits my shoes 

very well, Sir Richard Wargrave ? ” says the young reprobate : 
upon which the company began to look at each other and to 
titter ; and his mother coming up to Lord Bullingdon with 
great dignity, seized the child to her breast, and said, '* From 
the manner in which I love this child, my lord, you ought to 
know how I would have loved his elder brother had he proved 
worthy of any mother’s affection ! ” and, bursting into tears, 
Lady Lyndon left the apartment, and the young lord rather 
discomfited for once. 

At last, on one occasion, his behavior to me was so out- 
rageous (it was in the hunting-field and in a large public com- 
pany), that I lost all patience, rode at the urchin straight, 
wrenched him out of his saddle with all my force, and, flinging 
him roughly to the ground, sprung down to it myself, and ad- 
ministered such a correction across the young caitiff’s head 
and shoulders with my horsewhip as might have ended in his 
death, had I not been restrained in time ; for my passion was 
up, and I was in a statoto do murder or any other crime. 

The lad was taken home and put to bed, where he lay for a 
day or two in a fever, as much from rage and vexation as from 
the chastisement I had given him ; and three days afterwards, 
on sending to inquire at his chamber whether he would join the 
family at table, a note was found on his table, and his bed was 
empty and cold. The young villain had fled, and had the au- 
dacity to write in the following terms regarding me to my wife, 
his mother : — 

“ Madam,” he said, “ I have borne as long as mortal could 
endure the ill treatment of the insolent Irish upstart whom you 
have taken to your bed. It is not only the lowness of his birth 
and the general brutality of his manners which disgust me, and 
must make me hate him so long as I have the honor to bear 
the name of Lyndon, which he is unworthy of, but the shameful 
nature of his conduct towards your ladyship : his brutal and 
ungentlemanlike behavior, his open infidelity, his habits of ex- 
travagance, intoxication, his shameless robberies and swindling 
of my property and yours. It is these insults to you which 
shock and annoy me, more than the ruffian’s conduct to myself. 


BARR Y L Y IV DON, ESQ. 


2 45 


I would have stood by your ladyship as I promised, but you 
seem to have taken latterly your husband’s part ; and, as I 
cannot personally chastise this low-bred ruffian, who, to our 
shame be it spoken, is the husband of my mother ; and as I 
cannot bear to witness his treatment of you, and loathe his 
horrible society as if it were the plague, I am determined to 
quit my native country : at least during his detested life, or 
during my own. I possess a small income from my father, of 
which I have no doubt Mr. Barry will cheat me if he can ; but 
which, if your ladyship has some feelings of a mother left, you 
will, perhaps, award to me. Messrs. Childs, the bankers, can 
have orders to pay it to me when due ; if they receive no such 
orders, I shall not be in the least surprised, knowing you to be 
in the hands of a villain who would not scruple to rob on the 
highway ; and shall try to find out some way in life for myself 
more honorable than that by which the penniless Irish adven- 
turer has arrived to turn me out of my rights and home.” 

This mad epistle was signed “ Bullingdon,” and all the neigh- 
bors vowed that I had been privy to his flight, and would profit 
by it ; though I declare on my honor my true and sincere de- 
sire, after reading the above infamous letter, was to have the 
author within a good arm’s length of me, that I might let him 
know my opinion regarding him. But there was no eradicating 
this idea from people’s minds, who insisted that I wanted to 
kill Bullingdon ; whereas murder, as I have said, was never one 
of my evil qualities : and even had I wished to injure my young 
enemy ever so much, common prudence would have made my 
mind easy, as I knew he was going to ruin his own way. 

It was long before we heard of the fate of the audacious 
young truant ; but after some fifteen months had elapsed, I had 
the pleasure of being able to refute some of the murderous 
calumnies w r hich had been uttered against me, by producing a 
bill with Bullingdon’s own signature, drawn from General Tar- 
leton’s army in America, where my company was conducting 
itself with the greatest glory, and with which my lord was 
serving as a volunteer. There were some of my kind friends 
who persisted still in attributing all sorts of wicked intentions 
to me. Lord Tiptoff would never believe that I would pay any 
bill, much more any bill of Lord Bullingdon’s ; old Lady Betty 
Grimsby, his sister, persisted in declaring the bill was a forgery, 
and the poor dear lord dead ; until there came a letter to her 
ladyship from Lord Bullingdon himself, who had been at New 
York at headquarters, and who described at length the splendid 
festival given by the officers of the garrison to our distinguished 
chieftains, the two Howes. 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


246 

In the meanwhile, if I had murdered my lord, I could scarcely 
have been received with more shameful obloquy and slander 
than now followed me in town and country. “ You will hear 
of the lad’s death, be sure,” exclaimed one of my friends. “And 
then his wife’s will follow,” added another. “ He will marry 
Jenny Jones,” added a third ; and so on. Lavender brought 
me the news of these scandals about me ; the country was up 
against me. The farmers on market-days used to touch their 
hats sulkily, and get out of my way ; the gentlemen who fol- 
lowed my hunt now suddenly seceded from it, and left off my uni- 
form ; at the county ball, where I led out Lady Susan Caper- 
more, and took my place third in the dance after the duke and 
the marquis, as was my wont, all the couples turned away as 
we came to them, and we were left to dance alone. Sukey 
Capermore has a love of dancing which would make her dance 
at a funeral if anybody asked her, and I had too much spirit to 
give in at this signal instance of insult towards me ; so we 
danced with some of the very commonest low people at the 
bottom of the set — your apothecaries, wine merchants, attor- 
neys, and such scum as are allowed to attend our public as- 
semblies. 

The Bishop, my Lady Lyndon’s relative, neglected to invite 
us to the palace at the assizes ; and, in a word, every indignity 
was put upon me which could by possibility be heaped upon an 
innocent and honorable gentleman. 

My reception in London, whither I now carried my wife and 
family, was scarcely more cordial. On paying my respects to 
my sovereign at St. James’s, his Majesty pointedly asked me 
when I had news of Lord Bullingdon. On which I replied, 
with no ordinary presence of mind, “ Sir, my Lord Bullingdon 
is fighting the rebels against your Majesty’s crown in America. 
Does your Majesty desire that I should send another regiment 
to aid him ? ” On which the King turned on his heel, and I 
made my bow out of the presence-chamber. When Lady Lyn- 
don kissed the Queen’s hand at the drawing-room, I found 
that precisely the same question had been put to her ladyship ; 
and she came home much agitated at the rebuke which had 
been administered to her. Thus it was that my loyalty was 
rewarded, and my sacrifice, in' favor of my country, viewed ! I 
took away my establishment abruptly to Paris, where I met with 
a very different reception : but my stay amidst the enchanting 
pleasures of that capital was extrcfrnely short ; for the French 
Government, which had been long tampering with the Amer- 
ican rebels, now openly acknowledged the independence of the 


BARK Y L YNDON. ESQ. 2 47 

United States. A declaration of war ensued : all we happy 
English were ordered away from Paris ; and I think I left one 
or two fair ladies there inconsolable. It is the only place where 
a gentleman can live as he likes without being incommoded by 
his wife. The countess and I, during our stay, scarcely saw 
each other except upon public occasions, at Versailles, or at the 
Queen’s play-table ; and our dear little Bryan advanced in a 
thousand elegant accomplishments, which rendered him the 
delight of all who knew him. 

I must not forget to mention here my last interview with my 
good uncle, the Chevalier de Ballybarry, whom I left at Brus- 
sels with strong intentions of making his salut^ as the phrase is, 
and who had gone into retirement at a convent there. Since 
then he had come into the world again, much to his annoyance 
and repentance ; having fallen desperately in love in his old 
age with a French actress, who had done, as most ladies of her 
character do, — ruined him, left him, and laughed at him. His 
repentance was very edifying. Under the guidance of Mes- 
sieurs of the Irish College, he once more turned his thoughts 
towards religion ; and his only prayer to me when I saw him 
and asked in what I could relieve him, was to pay a handsome 
fee to the convent into which he proposed to enter. 

This I could not, of course, do : my religious principles for- 
bidding me to encourage superstition in any way : and the old 
gentleman and I parted rather coolly, in consequence of my 
refusal, as he said, to make his old days comfortable. 

I was very poor at the time, that is the fact ; and entre nous y 
the Rosemont of the French opera, an indifferent dancer, but a 
charming figure and ankle, was ruining me in diamonds, equi- 
pages, and furniture bills ; added to which I had a run of ill- 
luck at play, and was forced to meet my losses by the most 
shameful sacrifice to the money-lenders, by pawning part of 
Lady Lyndon’s diamonds (that graceless little Rosemont 
wheedled me out of some of them), and by a thousand other 
schemes for raising money. But when Honor is in the case, 
was I ever found backward at her call ? and what man can say 
that Barry Lyndon lost a bet which he did not pay ? 

As for my ambitious hopes regarding the Irish peerage, I 
began, on my return, to find out that I had been led wildly 
astray by that rascal Lord Crabs ; who liked to take my money, 
but had no more influence to get me a coronet than to procure 
for me the Pope’s tiara. The sovereign was not a whit more 
gracious to me on returning from the Continent than lie had 
been before my departure ; and I had it from one of the aides 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


Z 48 

de-camp of the royal dukes his brothers, that my conduct and 
amusements at Paris had been odiously misrepresented by some 
spies there, and had formed the subject of royal comment ; and 
that the King had, influenced by these calumnies, actually said 
I was the most disreputable man in the three kingdoms. I dis- 
reputable ! I a dishonor to my name and country ! When I 
heard these falsehoods, I was in such a rage that I went off to 
Lord North at once to remonstrate with the Minister; to insist 
upon being allowed to appear before his Majesty and clear my- 
self of the imputation against me, to point out my services to 
the Government in voting with them, and to ask when the re- 
ward that had be^n promised to me, viz., the title held by my 
ancestors, was again to be revived in my person ? 

There was a sleepy coolness in that fat Lord North, which 
was the most provoking thing that the opposition had ever to 
encounter from him. He heard me with half-shut eyes. When 
I had finished a long, violent speech — which I made striding 
about his room in Downing Street, and gesticulating with all 
the energy of an Irishman — he opened one eye, smiled, and 
asked me gently if I had done. On my replying in the affirma- 
tive, he said, “ Well, Mr. Barry, I’ll answer you v point by point. 
The King is exceedingly averse to make peers, as you know. 
Your claims, as you call them, have been laid before him, and 
his Majesty’s gracious reply was, that you were the most impu- 
dent man in his dominions, and merited a halter rather than a 
coronet. As* for withdrawing your support from us, you are 
perfectly welcome to carry yourself and your vote whitherso- 
ever you please. And now, as I have a great deal of occupa- 
tion, perhaps you will do me the favor to retire.” So, saying, 
he raised his hand lazily to the bell, and bowed me cut ; asking 
blandly if there was any other thing in the world in which he 
could oblige ffie. 

I went home in a fury which can’t be described ; and hav- 
ing Lord Crabs to dinner that day, assailed his lordship by 
pulling his wig off his head, and smothering it in his face, and 
by attacking him in that part of the person where, according to 
report, he had been formerly assaulted by Majesty. The whole 
story was over the town the next day, and pictures of me were 
hanging in the clubs and print-shops performing the operation 
alluded to. All the town laughed at the picture of the lord and 
the Irishman, and I need not say, recognized both. As for 
me, I was one of the most celebrated characters in London in 
those days : my dress, style, and equipage being as well kno vv n 
as those of any leader of the fashion ; and my popularity, if 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ . 


249 


great in the highest quarters, was at least considerable else- 
where. The people cheered me in the Gordon rows, at the 
time they nearly killed my friend Jemmy Twitcher and burned 
Lord Mansfield’s house down. Indeed, I was known as a 
staunch Protestant, and after my quarrel with Lord North 
veered right round to the opposition, and vexed him with all 
the means in my power. 

These were not, unluckily, very great, for I was a bad 
speaker, and the House would not listen to me, and presently, 
in 1780, after the Gordon disturbance, was dissolved, when a 
general election took place. It came on me, as all my mishaps 
were in the habit of coming, at a most unlucky time. I was 
obliged to raise more money, at most ruinous rates, to face the 
confounded election, and had the Tiptoffs against me in the 
field more active and virulent than ever. 

My blood boils even now when I think of the rascally con- 
duct of my enemies in that scoundrelly election. I was held 
up as the Irish Bluebeard, and libels of me were printed, ^and 
gross caricatures drawn representing me flogging Lady Lyndon, 
whipping Lord Bullingdon, turning him out of doors in a storm, 
and I know not what. There were pictures of a pauper cabin 
in Ireland, from which it was pretended I came ; others in 
which I was represented as a lacquey and shoeblack. A flood 
of calumny was let loose upon me, in which any man of less 
spirit would have gone down. 

But though I met my accusers boldly, though I lavished 
sums of money in the election, though I flung open Hack ton 
Hall, and kept champagne and burgundy running there, and 
at all my inns in the town, as commonly as water, the election 
went against me. The rascally gentry had all turned upon me 
and joined the Tiptoff faction : it was even represented that I 
held my wife by force ; and though I sent her into the town 
alone, wearing my colors, with Bryan in her lap, and made her 
visit the mayor’s lady and the chief women there, nothing would 
persuade the people but that she lived in fear and trembling of 
me ; and the brutal mob had the impudence to ask her why she 
dared to go back, and how she liked horsewhip for supper. 

I was thrown out of my election, and all the bills came 
down upon me together — all the bills I had been contracting 
for the years of my marriage, which the creditors, with a ras- 
cally unanimity, sent in until they lay upon the table in heaps. 
I won’t cite their amount : it was frightful. My stewards and 
lawyers made matters worse. I was bound up in an inextrica- 
ble toil of bills and debts, of mortgages and insurances, and all 


2 5 ° 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


the horrible evils attendant upon them. Lawyers upon lawyers 
posted down from London : composition after composition, was 
made, and Lady Lyndon’s income hampered almost irretrievably 
to satisfy these cormorants. To do her justice, she behaved 
with tolerable kindness at this season of trouble ; for whenever 
I wanted money I had to coax her, and whenever I coaxed her 
I was sure of bringing this weak and light-minded woman to 
good humor : who was of such a weak, terrified nature, that to 
secure an easy week with me she would sign away a thousand 
a year. And when my troubles began at Hackton, and I de- 
termined on the only chance left, viz. : to retire to Ireland and 
retrench, assigning over the best part of my income to the 
creditors until their demands were met, my lady was quite 
cheerful at the idea of going, and said, if we would be quiet, 
she had no doubt all would be well ; indeed was glad to under- 
go the comparative poverty in which we must now live, for the 
sake of the retirement and the chance of domestic quiet, which 
she hoped to enjoy. 

We went off to Bristol pretty suddenly, leaving the odious 
and ungrateful wretches at Hackton to vilify us, no doubt, in 
our absence. My stud and hounds were sold off immediately : 
the harpies would have been glad to pounce upon my person ; 
but that was out of their power. I had raised, by cleverness 
and management, to the full as much on my mines and private 
estates as they were worth ; so the scoundrels were disap- 
pointed in this instance ; and as for the plate and property in 
the London house, they could not touch that, as it was the 
property of the heirs of the house of Lyndon. 

I passed over to Ireland, then, and took up my abode at 
Castle Lyndon for awhile ; all the world imagining that I was 
an utterly ruined man, and that the famous and dashing Barry 
Lyndon would never again appear in the circles of which he had 
been an ornament. But it was not so. In the midst of my 
perplexities, Fortune reserved a great consolation for me still. 
Despatches came home from America announcing Lord Corn- 
wallis’s defeat of General Gates in Carolina, and the death of 
Lord Bullingdon, who was present as a volunteer. 

For my own desires to possess a paltry Irish title I cared 
little. My son was now heir to an English earldom, and I made 
him assume forthwith the title of Lord Viscount Castle Lyndon, 
the third of the family titles. My mother went almost mad 
with joy of saluting her grandson as “ my lord,” and I felt that 
all my sufferings and privations were repaid by seeing this 
darling child advanced to such a post of honor. 


BARRY L YiVDOAT, ESQ. 


25 * 


CHAPTER XIX. 

CONCLUSION. 

If the world were not composed of a race of ungrateful 
scoundrels, who share your prosperity while it lasts, and, even 
when gorged with your venison and burgundy abuse the gen- 
erous giver of the feast, I am sure I merit a good name and a 
high reputation: in Ireland, at least, where my generosity was 
unbounded, and the splendor of my mansion and entertain- 
ments unequalled by any other nobleman of my time. As 
long as my magnificence lasted, all the country was free to par- 
take of it ; I had hunters sufficient in my stables to mount a 
regiment of dragoons, and butts of wine in my cellar which 
would have made whole counties drunk for years. Castle 
Lyndon became the headquarters of scores of needy gentlemen, 
and I never rode a hunting but I had a dozen young fellows of 
the best blood of the country riding as my squires and gentle- 
men of the horse. My son, little Castle Lyndon, was a prince ; 
his breeding and manners, even at his early age, showed him 
to be worthy of the two noble families from whom he was de- 
scended : I don’t know what high hopes I had for the boy, and 
indulged in a thousand fond anticipations as to his future suc- 
cess and figure in the world. But stern Fate had determined 
that I should leave none of my race behind me, and ordained 
that I should finish my career, as I see it closing now — poor, 
lonely and childless. I may have had my faults ; but no man 
shall dare to say of me that I was not a good and tender father. 
I loved that boy passionately ; perhaps with a blind partiality : 
I denied him nothing. Gladly, gladly, I swear, would I have 
died that his premature doom might have been averted. I 
think there is not a day since I lost him but his bright face and 
beautiful smiles look down on me out of heaven, where he is, 
and that my heart does not yearn towards him. That sweet 
child was taken from me at the age of nine years, when he was 
full of beauty and promise ; and so powerful is the hold his memory 
has of me that I have never been able to forget him : his little 
spirit haunts me of nights on my restless solitary pillow ; many 
a time, in the wildest and maddest company, as the bottle is 
going round, and the song and laugh roaring about, I am think- 
ing of him. I have got a lock of his soft brown hair hanging 


252 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


round my breast now : it will accompany me to the dishonored 
pauper’s grave ; where soon, no doubt, Barry Lyndon’s worn- 
out old bones will be laid. 

My Bryan was a boy of amazing high spirit (indeed how, 
coming from such a stock, could he be otherwise ?), impatient 
even of my control, against which the dear little rogue would 
often rebel gallantly ; how much more, then, of his mother’s 
and the woman’s whose attempts to direct him he would laugh 
to scorn. Even my own mother (“ Mrs. Barry of Lyndon ” the 
good soul now called herself, in compliment to my new fami) f) 
was quite unable to check him ; and hence you may fancy what a 
will he had of his own. If it had not been for that, he might 
have lived to this day: he might — but why repine ? Is he not 
in a better place ? would the heritage of a beggar do any ser- 
vice to him ? It is best as it is — heaven be good to us ! — Alas ! 
that I, his father, should be left to deplore him 

It was in the month of October I had been to Dublin, in 
order to see a lawyer and a moneyed man who had come over 
to Ireland to consult with me about some sales of mine and the 
cut of Hackton timber ; of which, as I hated the place and was 
greatly in want of money, I was determined to cut down every 
stick. T 1 ere had been some difficulty in the matter. It was 
said I had no right to touch the timber. The brute peasantry 
about the estate had been roused to such a pitch of hatred 
against me, that the rascals actually refused to lay an axe to 
the trees ; and my agent (that scoundrel Larkins) declared 
that his life was in danger among them if lie attempted any 
further despoilment (as they called it) of the property. Every 
article of the splendid furniture was sold by this time, as I need 
not say ; and, as for the plate, I had taken good care to bring 
it off to Ireland, where it now was in the best of keeping — my 
bankers, who had advanced six thousand pounds on it : which 
sum I soon had occasion for. 

I went to Dublin, then, to meet the English men of busi- 
ness ; and so far succeeded in persuading Mr. Splint, a great 
ship-builder and timber-dealer of Plymouth, of my claim to 
the Hackton timber, that he agreed to purchase it off-hand at 
about one-third its value, and handed me over 5,000/. * which, 
being pressed with debts at the time, I was fain to accept. //<? 
had no difficulty in getting down the wood, I warrant. He 
took a regiment cf shipwrights and sawyers from his own and 
the king’s yards at Plymouth, and in two months Hackton Park 
was as bare of trees as the Bog of Allen. 

I had but ill luck with that accursed expedition and money. 


BARR Y L YNDON \ ESQ. 


253 


I lost the greater part of it in two nights’ play at “ Daly’s/’ so 
that my debts stood just as they were before ; and before the 
vessel sailed for Holyhead, whiclTtarried away my old sharper 
of a timber-merchant, all that I had left of the money he 
brought me was a couple of hundred pounds, with which I re- 
turned home very disconsolately: and very suddenly, too, for 
my Dublin tradesmen were hot upon me, hear mg I had spent 
the loan, and two of my wine-merchants had writs out against 
me for some thousands of pounds. 

I bought in Dublin, accordi rg to my promise, however — for 
when I give a promise I will keep it at any sacrifices — a little 
horse for my dear little Bryan ; which was to be a present for 
his tenth birthday, that was now coming on : it was a beautiful 
little animal and stood me in a good sum. I never regarded 
money for that dear child. But the horse was very wild. He 
kicked off one of my horse-boys, who rode him at first, and 
broke the lad’s leg ; and, though I took the animal in hand on 
the journey home, it was only my weight and skill that made 
the brute quiet. 

When we got home I sent the horse away with one of my 
grooms to a farmer’s house, to break him thoroughly in, and 
told Bryan, who was all anxiety to see his little horse, that he 
would arrive by his birthday, when he should hunt him along 
with my hounds ; and I promised myself no small pleasure in 
presenting the dear fellow to the field that day : which I hoped 
to see him lead some time or other in place of his fond father. 
Ah me ! never was that gallant boy to ride a fox-chase, or to 
take the place amongst the gentry of his country which his 
birth and genius had pointed out for him ! 

Though I don’t believe in dreams and omens, yet I can’t 
but own that when a great calamity is hanging over a man he 
has frequently many strange and awful forebodings of it. f 
fancy now I had many. Lady Lyndon, especially, twice dreamed 
of her son’s death ; but, as she was now grown uncommonly 
flervous and vaporish, I treated her fears with scorn, and my 
own, of course, too. And in an unguarded moment, over the 
bottle after dinner, I told poor Bryan, who was always question- 
ing me about the little horse, and when it was to come, that it 
was arrived ; that it was in Doolan’s farm, where Mick the 
groom was breaking him in. “ Promise me, Bryan,” screamed 
his mother, “ that you will not ride the horse except in com- 
pany of your father.” But I only said, “ Pooh, madam, you 
are an ass ! ” being angry at her silly timidity, which was al- 
ways showing itself in a thousand disagreeable ways now ; and, 


2 54 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


turning round to Bryan, said, “ I promise your lordship a goo<£ 
flogging if you mount him without my leave.” 

I suppose the poor child did not care about paying this pen* 
alty for the pleasure he was to have, or possibly thought a fond 
father would remit the punishment altogether ; for the next 
morning, when I rose rather late, having sat up drinking the 
night before, IJound the child had been off at daybreak, hav 
ing slipped through his tutor’s room (this was Redmond Quin, 
our cousin, whom I had taken to live with me), and I had no 
doubt but that he was gone to Doolan’s farm. 

I took a great hcrse-whip and galloped off after him in a 
rage, swearing I would keep my promise. But, heaven forgive 
me ! I little thought of it, when at three miles from home 1 met 
a sad procession coming towards me : peasants moaning and 
howling as our Irish do, the black horse led by the hand, and, 
on a door that some of the folks carried, my poor dear, dear 
little boy. There he lay in his little boots and spurs, and his 
little coat of scarlet and gold. His dear face was quite white, 
and he smiled as he held a hand out to me, and said, painfully, 
“ You won’t whip me, wiil you, papa ? ” I could only burst out 
into tears in reply. I have seen many and many a man dying, 
and there’s a look about the eyes which you cannot mistake. 
There was a little drummer-boy I was fond of who was hit 
down before my company at Kiihnersdorf ; when I ran up to 
give him some water, he looked exactly like my dear Bryan then 
did — there’s no mistaking that awful look of the eyes. We 
carried him home and scoured the country round for doctors to 
come and look at his hurt. 

But what does a doctor avail in a contest with the grim, in- 
vincible enemy ? Such as came could only confirm our despair 
by their account of the poor child’s case. He had mounted his 
horse gallantly, sat him bravely all the time the animal plunged 
and kicked, and, having overcome his first spite, ran him at a 
hedge by the roadside. But there were loose stones at the top, 
and the horse’s foot caught among them, and he and his brave 
little rider rolled over together at the other side. The people 
say they saw the noble little boy spring up after his fall and run 
to catch the horse ; which had broken away from him, kicking 
him on the back, as it would seem, as they lay on the ground. 
Poor Bryan ran a few yards and then dropped down as if shot. 
A pallor came over his face, and they thought he was dead. 
But they poured whiskey down his mouth, and the poor child re- 
vived : still he could not move ; his spine was injured : the 
lower half of him was dead when they laid him in bed at home. 


BARRY L Y.VDOA\ ESQ. 


2 5 $ 

The rest did not last long, God help me ! He remained yet for 
two days with us ; and a sad comfort it Was to think he was in 
no pain. 

During this time the dear angel’s temper seemed quite to 
change : he asked his mother and me pardon for any act of 
disobedience he had been guilty of towards us ; he said often 
he should like to see his brother Bullingdon. “ Bully was bet- 
ter than you, papa,” he said ; “he used not to swear so. and 
he told and taught me many good things while you were away.” 
And, taking a hand of his mother and mine in each of his little 
clammy ones, he begged us not to quarrel so, but love each 
other, so that we might meet again in heaven, where Bully told 
him quarrelsome people never went. His mother was very 
much affected by these admonitions from the poor suffering 
angel’s mouth ; and I was so too. I wish she had enabled me 
to keep the counsel which the dying boy gave us. 

At last, after two days he died. There he lay, the hope of 
my family, the pride of my manhood, the link which had kept 
me and my Lady Lyndon together. “ Oh, Redmond,” said 
she, kneeling by the sweet child’s body, “ do, do let us listen 
to the truth out of his blessed mouth ; and do you amend your 
life, and treat your poor loving, fond wife as her dying child 
bade you.” And I said I would : but there are promises which 
it is out of a man’s power to keep ; especially with such a 
woman as her. But we drew together after that sad event, and 
were for several months better friends. 

I won’t tell you with what splendor we buried him. Of 
what avail are undertakers’ feathers and heralds’ trumpery ? I 
went out and shot the fatal black horse that had killed him, at 
the door of the vault where we laid my boy. I was so wild 
that I could have shot myself too. But for the crime, it would 
have been better that I should, perhaps ; for what has my life 
been since that sweet flower was taken out of my bosom ? A 
succession of miseries, wrongs, disasters, and mental and 
bodily sufferings, which never fell to the lot of any other man 
in Christendom. 

Lady Lyndon, always vaporish and nervous, after our 
blessed boy’s catastrophe became more agitated than ever, and 
plunged into devotion with so much fervor, that you would 
have fancied her almost distracted at times. She imagined she 
saw visions. She said an angel from heaven had told her that 
Bryan’s death was as a punishment to her for her neglect of 
her first-born. Then she would declare Bullingdon was alive \ 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


<S<5 

she had seen him in a dream. Then again she would fall into 
fits cf sorrow about his death, and grieve for him as violently 
as if he had been the last of her sons who had died, and not 
our darling Bryan ; who, compared to Eullingdojj, was what a 
diamond is to a vulgar stone. Her freahs were painful to wit- 
ness, and difficult to control. It began to be said in the coun- 
try that the countess was going mad. My scoundrelly enemies 
did not fail to confirm and magnify the rumor, and would add 
that I was the cause of her insanity ; I had driven her to dis- 
traction, I had killed Bullingdon, I had murdered my own son ; 
I don’t know what else they laid to my charge. Even in Ire- 
land their hateful calumnies reached me : my friends fell away 
from me. They began to desert my hunt, as they did i-n Eng- 
land, and when I went to race or market found sudden reasons 
for retting out of my neighborhood. I got the name of Wicked 
Barry, Devil Lyndon, which you please : the country-folks used 
to make marvellous legends about me: the priests said I had 
massacred I don’t know how many German nuns in the Seven 
Years’ War ; that the ghost of the murdered Bullingdon haunted 
my house. Once at a fair in a town hard by, when I had a 
mind to buy a waistcoat for one of my people, a fellow standing 
by said, “ ’Tis a strait waistcoat he’s buying for my Lady Lyn- 
don.” And from this circumstance arose a legend cf my 
cruelty to my wife ; and many circumstantial details were nar- 
rated regarding my manner and ingenuity cf torturing her. 

The loss of my dear boy pressed not only on my heart as a 
father, but my injured individual interests in a very consider- 
able degree ; for as there was now no direct heir to the estate, 
and Lady Lyndon was of a weak health, and supposed to be 
quite unlikely to leave a family, the next in succession — that 
detestable family of Tiptoff — began to exert themselves in 
a hundred ways to annoy me, and were at the head of 
the party of enemies who were raising reports to my dis- 
credit. They interposed between me and my management 
of the property in a hundred different ways ; making an out- 
cry if I cut a stick, sunk a shaft, sold a picture, cr sent a 
few ounces of plate to be remodelled. They harassed me with 
ceaseless law-suits, got injunctions from Chancery, hampered 
my agents in the execution of their work ; so much so that you 
would have fancied my own was not my own, but theirs, to do 
as they liked with. What is worse, as I have reason to believe, 
they had tamperings and dealings with my own domestics under 
my own roof ; for I could not have a word with Lady Lyndon 
but it 'somehow got abroad, and I could not be drunk with my 


BARA Y LYNDON, ESQ. 


2 57 


cnaplain and friends but some sanctified rascals would get hold 
o.t the news, and reckon up all the bottles I drank and all the 
oaths I swore. That these were not few, I acknowledge. I 
am of the old school ; was always a free liver and speaker ; 
and, at least, if I did and said what I liked, was not so bad as 
many a canting scoundrel I know of who covers his foibles and 
sins, unsuspected, with a mask of holiness. 

As I am making a clean breast of it, and am no hypocrite, 
I may as well confess now that I endeavored to ward off the 
devices of my enemies by an artifice which was not, perhaps, 
strictly justifiable. Everything depended- on my having an heir 
to the estate ; for if Lady Lyndon, who was of weakly health, 
had died, the next day I was a beggar : all my sacrifices of 
money, &c.,on the estate would not have been held in a far- 
thing’s account ; all the debts would have been left on my 
shoulders ; and my enemies would have triumphed over me : 
which, to a man of my honorable spirit, was “the unkindest cut 
of all,” as some poet says. 

I confess, then, it was my wish to supplant these scoundrels ; 
and, as I could not do so without an heir to my property, I de- 
termined to find one. If I had him near at hand, and of my own 
blood too, though with the bar sinister, is not here 4he ques- 
tion. It was then I found out the rascally machinations of my 
enemies ; for, having broached this plan to Lady Lyndon, whom 
I made to be, outwardly at least, the most obedient of wives, — 
although I never let a letter from her or to her go or arrive with- 
out my inspection, — although I allowed her to see none but those 
persons who I thought, in her delicate health, would be fitting 
society for her ; yet the infernal Tiptoffs got wind of my scheme, 
protested instantly against it, not only by letter, but in the 
shameful libellous public prints, and held me up to the public 
odium as a “ child-forger,” as they called me. Of course I 
denied the charge — I could do no otherwise, and offered to meet 
any one of the Tiptoffs on the field of honor, and prove him a 
scoundrel and a liar : as he was ; though, perhaps, not in this 
instance. But they contented themselves by answering me by 
a lawyer, and declined an invitation which any man of spirit 
would have accepted. My hopes of having an heir were thus 
blighted completely : indeed, Lady Lyndon (though, as I have 
said, I take her opposition for nothing) had resisted the pro- 
posal with as much energy as a woman of her weakness could 
manifest ; and said she had committed one great crime in com 
sequence of me, but would rather die than perform another. I 
could easily have brought her ladyship to her senses, however : 

17 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


258 

but my scheme had taken wind, and it was now in vain to at- 
tempt it. We might have had a dozen children in honest wed- 
lock, and people would have said they were false. 

As for raising money on annuities, I may say I had used 
her life-interest up. There were but few of those assurance so- 
cieties in my time which have since sprung up in the city of 
London ; underwriters did the business, and my wife’s life was 
as well known among them as, I do believe, that of any woman 
in Christendom. Latterly, when I wanted to get a sum against 
her life, the rascals had the impudence to say my treatment of 
her did not render it worth a year’s purchase, — as if my interest 
lay in killing her ! Had my boy lived, it would have been a 
different thing ; he and his mother might have cut off the entail 
of a good part of the property between them, and my affairs 
have been put in better order. Now they were in a bad condi- 
tion indeed. All my schemes had turned out failures ; my 
lands, which I had purchased with borrowed money, made me 
no return, and I was obliged to pay ruinous interest for the 
sums with which I had purchased them. My income, though 
very large, was saddled with hundreds of annuities, and thou- 
sands of lawyers’ charges ; and I felt the net drawing closer 
and closer round me, and no means to extricate myself from 
its toils. 

To add to all my perplexities, two years after my poor 
child’s death, my wife, whose vagaries of temper and wayward 
follies I had borne with for twelve years, wanted to leave me, 
and absolutely made attempts at what she called escaping from 
my tyranny. 

My mother, who was the only person that, in my misfor- 
tunes, remained faithful to me (indeed, she has always spoken 
of me in my true light as a martyr to the rascality of others and 
a victim of my own generous and confiding temper), found out 
the first scheme that was going on ; and of which those artful 
and malicious Tiptoffs were, as usual, the main promoters. 
Mrs. Barry, indeed, though her temper was violent and her ways 
singular, was an invaluable person to me in my house ; which 
would have been at rack and ruin long before, but for her spirit 
of order and management, and for her excellent economy in the 
government of my numerous family. As for my Lady Lyndon, 
she, poor soul ! was much too fine a lady to attend to household 
matters — passed her days with her doctor, or her books of piety, 
and never appeared among us except at my compulsion ; when 
she and my mother would be sure to have a quarrel. 

Mrs. Barry, on the contrary, had a talent for management in 


BARR Y L YNDON, ESQ, 


259 


all matters. She kept the maids stirring, and the footmen to 
their duty ; had an eye over the claret in the cellar, and the 
oats and hay in the stable ; saw to the salting and pickling, the 
potatoes and the turf-stacking, the pig-killing and the poultry, 
the linen-room and the bake-house, and the ten thousand 
minutiae of a great establishment. If all Irish housewives were 
like her, I warrant many a hall-fire would be blazing where the 
cobwebs only grow now, and many a park covered with sheep 
and fat cattle where the thistles are at present the chief occu- 
piers. If anything could have saved me from the consequences 
of villany in others, and (I confess it, for I am not ’above own- 
ing to my faults) my own too easy, generous, and careless nature, 
it would have been the admirable prudence of that worthy crea- 
ture. She never went to bed until all the house was quiet and 
all the candles out ; and you may fancy that this was a matter 
of some difficulty with a man of my habits, who had commonly a 
dozen of jovial fellows (artful scoundrels and false friends most 
of them were !) to drink with me every night, and who seldom, 
for my part, went to bed sober. Many and many a night, when 
I was unconscious of her attention, has that good soul pulled 
my boots off, and seen me laid by my servants snug in bed, and 
carried off the candle herself ; and being the first in the morn- 
ing, too, to bring me my drink of small-beer. Mine were no 
milksop times, I can tell you. A gentleman thought no shame 
of taking his half-dt>zen bottles ; and, as for your coffee and 
slops, they were left to Lady Lyndon, her doctor, and the other 
old women. It was my mother’s pride that I could drink more 
than any man in the country, — as much, within a pint, as my 
father before me, she said. 

That Lady Lyndon should detest her was quite natural. 
She is not the first of woman or mankind either that has hated 
a mother-in-law. I set my mother to keep a sharp watch over 
the freaks of her ladyship ; and this, you may be sure, was one 
of the reasons why the latter disliked her. I never minded 
that, however. Mrs. Barry’s assistance and surveillance were 
invaluable to me ; and, if I had paid twenty spies to watch my 
lady, I should not have been half so well served as by the dis- 
interested care and watchfulness of my excellent mother. She 
slept with the house-keys under her pillow, and had an eye 
everywhere. She followed all the countess’s movements like a 
shadow ; she managed to know, from morning till night, every- 
thing that my lady did. If she walked in the garden, a watch' 
ful eye was kept on the wicket ; and if she chose to drive out, 
Mrs. Barry accompanied her, and a couple of fellows in my 


260 


TIIE MEMOIRS OE 


liveries rode alongside of the carriage to see that she came to 
no harm. Though she objected, and would have kept her room 
in sullen silence, I made a point that we should appear together 
at church in the coach-and six every Sunday ; and that she 
should attend the race-balls in my company, whenever the coast 
was clear of the rascally bailiffs who beset me. This gave the 
lie to any of those maligners who said that I wished to make a 
prisoner of my wife. The fact is, that, knowing her levity, and 
seeing the insane dislike to me and mine which had now begun 
to supersede what, perhaps, had been an equally insane fondness 
for me, I was bound to be on my guard that she should not give 
me the slip. Had she left me, I was ruined the next day. 
This (which my mother knew) compelled us to keep a tight 
watch over her ; but as for imprisoning her, I repel the imputa- 
tion with scorn. Every man imprisons his wife to a certain de- 
gree ; the world would be in a pretty condition if women were 
allowed to quit home and return to it whenever they had a mind. 
In watching over my wife, Lady Lyndon, I did no more than 
exercise the legitimate authority which awards honor and obe- 
dience to every husband. 

Such, however, is female artifice, that, in spite of all my 
watchfulness in guarding her, it is probable my lady would 
have given me the slip had I not had quite as acute a person as 
herself as my ally : for, as the proverb says that “ the best way 
to catch one thief is to set another after him,” so the best way 
to get the better of a woman is to engage one of her own artful 
sex to guard her. One would have thought that, followed as 
she was, all her letters read, and all her acquaintances strictly 
watched by me, living in a remote part of Ireland away from her 
family, Lady Lyndon could have had no chance of communica- 
ting with her allies, or of making her wrongs, as she was pleased 
to call them, public ; and yet, for a while, she carried on a cor- 
respondence under my very nose, and acutely organized a con- 
spiracy for flying from me ; as shall be told. 

She always had an inordinate passion for dress, and, as she 
was never thwarted in any whimsey she had of this kind (for I 
spared no money to gratify her, and among my debts are mil- 
liners’ bills to the amount of many thousands), boxes used to 
pass continually to and fro from Dublin, with all sorts of dresses, 
caps, flounces, and furbelows, as her fancy dictated. With 
these would come letters from her milliner, in answer to numer- 
ous similar injunctions from my lady ; all of which passed 
through my hands, without the least suspicion, for some time. 
And yet in thfcse very papers, by the easy means of sympathetic 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ . 


261 


ink, were contained all her ladyship’s correspondence : and 
heaven knows (for it was some time, as I have said, before I 
discovered the trick) what charges against-me. 

But clever Mrs. Barry found out that always before my lady- 
wife chose to write letters to her milliner, she had need of 
lemons to make her drink, as she said ; this fact, being men- 
tioned to me, set me a-thinking, and so I tried one of the letters 
before the fire, and the whole scheme of villany was brought to 
light. I will give a specimen of one of the horrid artful letters 
of this unhappy woman. In a great hand, with wide lines, were 
written a set of directions to her mantua-maker, setting forth 
the articles of dress for which my lady had need, the peculiarity 
of their make, the stuffs she selected, &c. She would make 
out long lists in this way, writing each article in a separate line 
so as to have more space for detailing all my cruelties and her 
tremendous wrongs. Between these lines she kept the journal 
of her captivity : it would have made the fortune of a romance- 
writer in those days but to have got a copy of it, and to have 
published it under the title of the “ Lovely Prisoner, or the 
Savage Husband,” or by some name equally taking and absurd. 
The journal would be as follows : — 

# # # * # 

“ Monday.— Yesterday I was made to go to church. My 
odious, monstrous , ’ vulgar , she-dragon of a 'mother-in-law , in a 
yellow satin and red ribbons, taking the first place in the coach ; 
Mr. L. riding by its side, on the horse he never paid for to Cap- 
tain Hurdlestone. The wicked hypocrite led me to the pew, 
with hat in hand and a smiling countenance, and kissed my 
hand as I entered the coach after service, and patted my Italian 
grayhound, — all that the few people collected might see. He 
made me come down stairs in the evening to make tea for his 
company ; of whom three-fourths, he himself included, were, as 
usual, drunk. They painted the parson’s face black, when his 
reverence had arrived at his seventh bottle ; and at his usual 
insensible stage, and they tied him on the gray mare with his 
face to the tail. The she-dragon read the “ Whole Duty of 
Man ” all the evening till bedtime ; when she saw me to my 
apartments, locked me in, and proceeded to wait upon her 
abominable son : whom she adores for his wickedness, I should 
think, as Stycorax did Caliban .” # 

* " * * * * 

You should have seen my mother’s fury as I read her out 
this passage ! Indeed, I have always had a taste for a joke, 
(that practised on the parson, as described above, is, I confess, 


262 


THE MEMOIRS OE 


a Irue bill,) and used carefully to select for Mrs. Barry’s hear 
ing all the compliments that Lady Lyndon passed upon her. The 
dragon was the name by which she was known in this precious 
correspondence : or sometimes she was designated by the title 
of the “ Irish Witch.” As for me, I was denominated “ my 
jailor,” “my tyrant,” “ the dark spirit which has obtained the 
mastery over my being,” and so on ; in terms always compli- 
mentary to my power, however little they might be so to my 
amiability. Here is another extract from her “ Prison Diary,” 
by which it will be seen that my lady, although she pretended 
to be so indifferent to my goings on, had a sharp woman’s eye, 
and could be as jealous as another : — 

***** 

“ Wednesday. — This day two years my last hope and pleas- 
ure in life was taken from me, and my dear child was called to 
heaven. Has he joined his neglected brother there, whom I 
suffered to grow up unheeded by my side ; and whom the 
tyranny of the monster to whom I am united drove to exile, and 
perhaps to death ? Or is the child alive, as my fond heart 
sometimes deems ? Charles Bullingdon ! come to the aid of a 
wretched mother, who acknowledges her crimes, her coldness 
towards thee, and now bitterly pays for her error ! But no, he 
cannot live ! I am distracted ! My only hope is in you, my 
cousin — you whom I had once thought to salute by a still fonder 
title , my dear George Poynings ! Oh, be my knight and my pre- 
server, the true chivalric being thou ever wert, and rescue me 
from the thrall of the felon caitiff who holds me captive, — 
rescue me from him, and from Stycorax, the vile Irish witch, his 
mother ! ” 

(Here follow some verses, such as her ladyship was in the 
habit of composing by reams, in which she compares herself to 
Sabra, in the “ Seven Champions,” and beseeches her George 
to rescue her from the dragon , meaning Mrs. Barry. I omit the 
lines, and proceed) : — 

“ Even my poor child, who perished untimely on this sad 
anniversary, the tyrant who governs me had taught to despise 
and dislike me. ’Twas in disobedience to my orders, my pray- 
ers, that he went on the fatal journey. What sufferings, what 
humiliations have I had to endure since then ! I am a prisoner 
in my own halls. I should fear poison, but that I know the 
wretch has a sordid interest in keeping me alive, and that my 
death would be the signal for his ruin. But I dare not stir 
without my odious, hideous, vulgar jailer, the horrid Irish- 
woman, who pursues my every step. I am locked into my 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


263 

chamber at night, like a felon, and only suffered to leave it 
when ordered into the presence of my lord (/ordered !), to be 
present at his orgies with his boon companions, and to hear his 
odious converse as he lapses into the disgusting madness of in- 
toxication ! He has given up the semblance of constancy — he, 
who swore that I alone could attach or charm him ! And now 
he brings his vulgar mistresses before my very eyes, and would 
have had me acknowledge, as heir to my own property, his 
child by another ! 

“No, I never will submit! Thou, and thou only, my 
George, my early friend, shall be heir to the estates of Lyndon. 
Why did not Fate join me to thee, instead of to the odious man 
who holds me under his sway, and make the poor Calista 
happy ! ” 

***** 

So the letters would run on for sheets upon sheets, in the 
closest cramped handwriting ; and I leave any unprejudiced 
reader to say whether the writer of such documents must not 
have been as silly and vain a creature as ever lived, and 
whether she did not want being taken care of ? I could copy out 
yards of rhapsody to Lord George Poynings, her old flame, in 
which she addressed him by the most affectionate names, and 
implored him to find a refuge for her against her oppressors ; 
but they would fatigue the reader to peruse, as they would me 
to copy. The fact is, that this unlucky lady had the knack of 
writing a great deal more than she meant. She was always 
reading novels and trash ; putting herself into imaginary char- 
acters and flying off into heroics and sentimentalities with as 
little heart as any woman I ever knew ; yet showing the most 
violent disposition to be in love. She wrote always as if she 
was in a flame of passion. I have an elegy on her lap-dog, the 
most tender and pathotic piece she ever wrote ; and most tendei 
notes of remonstrance to Betty, her favorite maid ; to her 
housekeeper, on quarrelling with her; to half-a-dozen acquaint- 
ances, each of whom she addressed as the dearest friend in the 
world, and forgot the very moment she took up another fancy. 
As for her love for her children, the above passage will show 
how much she was capable of true maternal feeling : the very 
sentence in which she records the death of one child serves to 
betray her egotisms, and to wreak her spleen against myself ; 
and she only wishes to recall another from the grave, in order 
that he may be of some personal advantage to her. If I did 
deal severely with this woman, keeping her from her flatterers 
who would have bred discord between us, and locking her up 


264 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


out of mischief, who shall say that I was wrong ? If any woman 
deserved a strait-waistcoat, it was my Lady Lyndon ; and I 
have known people in my time manacled, and with their heads 
shaved, in the straw, who had not committed half the follies of 
that foolish, vain, infatuated creature. 

My mother was so enraged by the charges against me and 
herself which these letters contained, that it was with the ut- 
most difficulty I could keep her from discovering our knowledge 
of them to Lady Lyndon ; whom it was, of course, my object to 
keep in ignorance of our knowledge of her designs : for I was 
anxious'to know how far they went, and to what pitch of arti- 
fice she would go. The letters increased in interest (as they 
say of the novels) as they proceeded. Pictures were drawn of 
my treatment of her which would make your heart throb. I 
don’t know of what monstrosities she did not accuse me, and 
what miseries and starvation she did not profess herself to un- 
dergo ; all the while she was living exceedingly fat and con- 
tented, to outward appearances, at our house at Castle Lyndon. 
Novel-reading and vanity had turned her brain. I could not 
say a rough word to her (and she merited many thousands a 
day, I can tell you), but she declared I was putting her to the 
torture ; and my mother could not remonstrate with her but she 
went off into a fit of hysterics, of which she would declare the 
worthy old lady was the cause. 

At last she began to threaten to kill herself ; and though I 
by no means kept the cutlery out of the way, did not stint her 
in garters, and left her doctor’s shop at her entire service, — • 
knowing her character full well, and that there was no woman 
in Christendom less likely to lay hands on her precious life 
than herself ; yet these threats had an effect, evidently, in the 
quarter to which they were addressed ; for the milliner’s pack- 
ets now began to arrive with great frequency, and the bills sent 
to her contained assurances of coming aid. The chivalrous 
Lord George Poynings was coming to his cousin’s rescue, and 
did me the compliment to say that he hoped to free his deaf 
cousin from the clutches of the most atrocious villain that ever 
disgraced humanity ; and that, when she was free, measures 
should be taken for a divorce, on the ground of cruelty and every 
species of ill usage on my part. 

I had copies of all these precious documents on one side and 
the other carefully made, by my before-mentioned relative, god- 
son, and secretary, Mr. Redmond Quin, at present the worthy 
agent of the Castle Lyndon property. This was a son of my 
old flame Nora, whom I had taken from her in a lit of generos- 


BARRY LYNDON , 


265 

ity ; promising to care for his education at Trinity College, and 
provide for him through life. But after the lad had been for 
a year at the University, the tutors would not admit him to 
commons or lectures until his college bills were paid ; and, of- 
fended by this insolent manner of demanding the paltry sum 
due, I withdrew my patronage from the place, and ordered my 
gentleman to Castle Lyndon ; where I made him useful to me 
in a hundred ways. In my dear little boy’s lifetime, he tutored 
the poor child as far as his high spirit would let him ; but I 
promise you it was small trouble poor dear Bryan ever gave 
the books. Then he kept Mrs. Barry’s accounts; copied my 
own interminable correspondence with my lawyers and the 
agents of all my various property ; took a hand at piquet or 
. backgammon of evenings with me and my mother ; or, being 
an ingenious lad enough (though of a mean, boorish spirit, as 
became the son of such a father), accompanied my Lady Lyn 
don’s spinet with his flageolet , or read French and Italian with 
her : in both of which languages her ladyship was a fine 
scholar, and in which he also became perfectly conversant. It 
would make my watchful old mother very angry to hear them 
conversing in these languages; for, not understanding a word 
of either of them, Mrs. Barry was furious when they were 
spoken, and always said it was some scheming they were after. 
It was Lady Lyndon’s constant way of annoying the old lady, 
when the three were alone together, to address Quin in one or 
other of these tongues. 

I was perfectly at ease with regard to his fidelity, for I had 
bred the lad, and loaded him with benefits ; and, besides, had 
had various proofs of his trustworthiness. He it was who 
brought me three of Lord George’s letters, in reply to some 
of my lady’s complaints ; which were concealed between the 
leather and the boards of a book which was sent from the cir- 
culating library for her ladyship’s perusal. He and my lady 
too had frequent quarrels. She mimicked his gait in her pleas- 
anter moments ; in her haughty moods, she would not sit down 
to table with a tailor’s grandson. u Send me anything for 
company but that odious Quin,” she would say, when I pro- 
posed that he should go and amuse her with his books and his 
flute ; for, quarrelsome as we were, it must not be supposed we 
were always at it : I was occasionally attentive to her. We 
would be friends for a month together, sometimes ; then we 
would quarrel for a fortnight ; then she would keep her apart- 
ments for a month : all of which domestic circumstances were 
noted down, in her ladyship’s peculiar way, in her journal of 


266 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


captivity, as she called it : and a pretty document it is ! Some- 
times she writes, “ My monster has been almost kind to-day,” 
or, “ My ruffian has deigned to smile.” Then she will break 
out into expressions of savage hate ; but for my poor mother it 
was always hatred. It was, “ The she-dragon is sick to-day ; I 
wish to heaven she would die ! ” or, “ The hideous old Irish 
basket-woman has been treating me to some of her Billingsgate 
to-day,” and so forth : all which expressions, read to Mrs. Barry, 
or translated from the French and Italian, in which many of 
them were written, did not fail to keep the old lady in a per- 
petual fury against her charge : and so I had my watch-dog, 
as I called her, always on the alert. In translating these lan- 
guages, young Quin was of great service to me ; for I had a 
smattering of French — and High Dutch, when 1 was in the 
army, of course I knew well — but Italian I knew nothing of, 
and was glad of the services of so faithful and cheap an inter- 
preter. 

• This cheap and faithful interpreter, this godson and kins- 
man, on whom and on whose family I had piled up benefits, 
was actually trying to betray me ; and for several months, at 
least, was in league with the enemy against me. I believe that 
the reason why they did not move earlier, was the want of the 
great mover of all treasons — money : of which, in all parts of 
my establishment, there was a woeful scarcity ; but of this they 
also managed to get a supply through my rascal of a godson, 
who could come and go quite unsuspected : the whole scheme 
was arranged under our very noses, and the post-chaise ordered, 
and the means of escape actually got ready ; while I never sus- 
pected tneir design. 

A. m me accident made me acquainted with their plan. One 
of my colliers had a pretty daughter ; and this pretty lass had 
for her 1 achelor, as they call them in Ireland, a certain lad who 
brought the letter-bag for Castle Lyndon (and many a dunning 
letter for me was there in it, God wot !) : this letter-boy told his 
sweetheart how he brought a bag of money from the town for 
Master Quin ; and how that Tim the post-boy had told him 
that he was to bring a chaise down to the water at a certain 
hour. Miss Rooney, who had no secrets from me, blurted out 
the whole story ; asked me what scheming I was after, and 
what poor unlucky girl 1 was going to carry away with the 
chaise I had ordered, and bribe with the money I had got from 
town ? 

Then the whole secret flashed upon me, that the man I had 
cherished in my bosom was going to betray me. i thought at 


BARRY LYNDOX, ESQ. 


267 

one time of catching the couple in the act of escape, half 
drowning them in the ferry which they had to cross to get to 
their chaise, and of pistolling the young traitor before Lady 
Lyndon’s eyes ; but on second thoughts it was quite clear that 
the news of the escape would make a noise through the coun- 
try, and rouse the confounded justice’s people about my ears, 
and bring me no good in the end. So I was obliged to smother 
my just indignation, and' to content myself by crushing the foul 
conspiracy, just at the moment it was about to be hatched. 

I went home, and in half-an-hour, and with a few of my ter- 
rible looks, I had Lady Lyndon on her knees, begging me to 
forgive her ; confessing all and everything ; ready to vow and 
swear she would never make such an attempt again ; and de- 
claring that she was fifty times on the point of owning every- 
thing to me, but that she feared my wrath against the poor 
young lad her accomplice : who was indeed the author and in- 
ventor of all the mischief. This — though I knew how entirely 
false the statement was — I was fain to pretend to believe ; so 
I begged her to write to her cousin, Lord George, who had 
supplied her with money, as she admitted, and with whom the 
plan had been arranged, stating, briefly, that she had altered 
her mind as to the trip to the country proposed ; and that, as 
her dear husband was rather in delicate health, she preferred 
to stay at home and nurse him. I added a dry postscript, in 
which I stated that it would give me great pleasure if his lord- 
ship would come and visit us at Castle Lyndon ; and that I 
longed to renew an acquaintance which in former times gave 
me so much satisfaction. 44 I should seek him out,” I added, 
“ so soon as ever I was in his neighborhood, and eagerly anti- 
cipated the pleasure of a meeting with him.” I think he must 
have understood my meaning perfectly well ; which was, that I 
would run him through the body on the very first occasion I 
could come at him. 

Then I had a scene with my perfidious rascal of a nephew ; 
in which the young reprobate showed an audacity and a spirit 
for which I was quite unprepared. When I taxed him with in- 
gratitude, 44 What do I owe you ? ” said he. 44 1 have toiled 
for you as no man ever did for another, and worked without a 
penny of wages. It was you yourself who set me against you, 
by giving me a task against which my soul revolted,— by mak- 
ing me a spy over your unfortunate wife, whose weakness is as 
pitiable as are her misfortunes and your rascally treatment of 
her. Flesh and blood could not bear to see the manner in 
which you used her. I tried to help her to escape from you ; 


263 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


ancl 1 would do it again, if the opportunity offered, and so I 
tell you to your teeth ! ” When I offered to blow his brains 
out for his insolence, “ Pooh ! ” said he, — “ kill the man who 
saved your poor boy’s life once and who was endeavoring to 
keep him out of the ruin and perdition into which a wicked 
father was leading him, when a Merciful Power interposed, and 
withdrew him from this house of crime. I would have left you 
months ago, but I hoped for some chance of rescuing this un- 
happy lady. I swore I would try, the day I saw you strike her. 
Kill me, you woman’s bully! You would if you dared; but 
you have not the heart. Your very servants like me better 
than you. Touch me, and they will rise and send you to the 
gallows you merit ? ” 

I interrupted this neat speech by sending a water-bottle at 
the young gentleman’s head, which felled him to the ground ; 
and then I went to meditate upon what he had said to me. It 
was true the fellow had saved poor little Bryan’s life, and the 
boy to his dying day was tenderly attached to him. “ Be good 
to Redmond, papa,” were almost the last words he spoke ; and 
I promised the poor child, on his death-bed, that I would do 
as he asked. It was also true, that. rough usage of him would 
be little liked by my people, with whom he had managed to 
become a great favorite : for, somehow, though I got drunk 
with the rascals often, and was much more familiar with them 
than a man of my rank commonly is, yet I knew I was by no 
means liked by them ; and the scoundrels were murmuring 
against me perpetually. 

But I might have spared myself the trouble of debating what 
his fate should be, for the young gentleman took the disposal 
of it out of my hands in the simplest way in the world : viz., by 
washing and binding up his head so soon as he came to himself ; 
by taking his horse from the stables ; and, as he was quite free 
to go in and out of the house and park as he liked, he disap- 
peared without the least let or hindrance ; and leaving the 
horse behind him at the ferry, went off in the very post-chaise 
which was waiting for Lady Lyndon. I saw and heard no more 
of him for a considerable time ; and, now that he was out of 
the house, did not consider him a very troublesome enemy. 

But the cunning artifice of woman is such that, I think, in 
the long run, no man, were he Macchiavel himself, could escape 
from it ; ancl though I had ample proofs in the above transac- 
tion (in which my wife’s perfidious designs were frustrated by 
my foresight), and under her own handwriting, of the deceitful- 


BARR Y L YN DON, ESQ. 2 69 

ness of her character and her hatred for me, yet she actually 
managed to deceive me, in spite of all my precautions and the 
vigilance of my mother in my behalf. Had I followed that 
good lady’s advice, who scented the danger from afar off, as it 
were, I should never have fallen into the snare prepared for 
me ; and which was laid in a way that was as successful as it 
was simple. 

My Lady Lyndon’s relation with me was a singular one. 
Her life was passed in a crack-brained sort of alternation be- 
tween love and hatred for me. If I was in a good humor with 
her (as occurred sometimes), there was nothing she would not 
do to propitiate me further ; and she would be as absurd and 
violent in her expressions of fondness as, at other moments, 
she would be in her demonstrations of hatred. It is not your 
feeble, easy husbands who are loved best in the world ; accord- 
ing to my experience of it. I do think the women like a little 
violence of temper, and think no worse of a husband who exer- 
cises his authority pretty smartly. I had got my lady ipto such 
a terror about me, that when I smiled it was quite an era of 
happiness to her ; and if I beckoned to her, she would come 
fawning up to me like a dog: I recollect how, for the few days 
I was at school, the cowardly, mean-spirited fellows would laugh 
if ever our schoolmaster made a joke. It was the same in the 
regiment whenever the bully of a sergeant was disposed to be 
jocular — not a recruit but was on the broad grin. Well, a wise 
and determined husband will get his wife into this condition of 
discipline' •; and I brought my high-born wife to kiss my hand, 
to pull off my boots, to fetch and carry for me like a servant, 
and always to make it a holiday, too, when I was in good 
humor. I confided perhaps too much in the duration of this 
disciplined obedience, and forgot that the very hypocrisy which 
forms a part of it (all timid people are liars in their hearts) may 
be exerted in a way that may be far from agreeable, in order to 
deceive you. 

After the ill success of her last adventure, which gave me 
endless opportunities to banter her, one would have thought I. 
might have been on my guard as to what her real intentions 
were ; but she managed to mislead me with an art of dissimula- 
tion quite admirable, and lulled me into a fatal security with 
regard to her intentions : for, one day, as I was joking her, and 
asking her whether she would take the water again, whether 
she had found another lover, and so forth, she suddenly burst 
into tears, and, seizing hold of my hand, cried passionately out, — • 

“ Ah, Barry, you know well enough that I have never loved 


270 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


but you ! Was I ever so wretched that a kind word from you 
did not make me happy ? ever so angry, but the least offer of 
goodwill on your part did not bring me to your side ? Did I 
not give a sufficient proof of my affection for you, in bestowing 
one of the first fortunes in England upon you ? Have I repined 
or rebuked you for the way you have wasted it ? No, I loved 
you too much and too fondly : I have always loved you. From 
the first moment I saw you, I felt irresistibly attracted towards 
you. I saw your bad qualities, and trembled at yourViolence ; 
but I could not help loving you. I married you though I knew 
I was sealing my own fate in doing so ; and in spite of reason 
and duty. What sacrifice do you want from me ? I am ready 
to make any, so you will but love me ; or, if not, that at least 
you will gently use me.” 

I was in a particularly good humor that day, and we had a 
sort of reconciliation ; though my mother, when she heard the 
speech, and saw me softening towards her ladyship, warned me 
solemnly, and said, Depend on it, the artful hussy has some 
other scheme in her head now.” The old lady was right ; and 
I swallowed the bait which her ladyship had prepared to entrap 
me as simply as any gudgeon takes' a hook. 

I had been trying to negotiate with a man for some money, 
for which I had pressing occasion ; but since our dispute re- 
garding the affair of the succession, my lady had resolutely re- 
fused to sign any papers for my advantage : and without her 
name, I am sorry to say, my own was of little value in the mar- 
ket, and I could not get a guinea from any money-dealer in 
London or Dublin. Nor could I get the rascals from the latter 
place to visit me at Castle Lyndon : owing to that unlucky 
affair I had with Lawyer Sharp when I made him lend me the 
money he brought down, and old Salmon the Jew being robbed 
of the bond I gave him after leaving my house,* the people 
would not trust themselves within my walls any more. Our 
rents, too, were in the hands of receivers by this time, and it 
was as much as I could do to get enough money from the ras- 
cals to pay my wine-merchants their bills. Our English prop- 
erty, as I have sffid, was equally hampered ; and, as often as I 
applied to my lawyers and agents for money, would come a re- 
ply demanding money of me, for debts and pretended claims 
which the rapacious rascals said they had on me. 

It was, then, with some feelings of pleasure that I got a 
letter from my confidential man in Gray’s Inn, London, saying 

* These exploits of Mr. Lyndon are not related in the narrative. He probably, in the 
cases above alluded to, took the law into his own hands. 


/ 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


271 


(in reply to some ninty-ninth demand of mine) that he thought 
he could get me some money ; and enclosing a lette 1 ' from a 
respectable firm in the city of London, connected with the min- 
ing interest, which offered to redeem the incumbrance *n taking 
a long lease of certain property of ours, which was s ol pretty 
free, upon the countess’s signature ; and provided the}' ruild t? 
assured of her free will in giving it. They said they he* id she 
lived in terror of her life from me, and meditated a separation, 
in which case she might repudiate any deeds signed by her 
while in durance, and subject them, at any rate, to a doubtful 
and expensive litigation ; and demanded to be made assured 
of her ladyship’s perfect free will in the transaction before they 
advanced a shilling of their capital. 

Their terms were so exorbitant, that I saw at once their 
offer must be sincere ; and, as my lady was in her gracious 
mood, had no difficulty in persuading her to write a letter, in 
her own hand, declaring that the accounts of our misunder- 
standings were utter calumnies ; that we lived in perfect union, 
and that she was quite ready to execute any deed which her 
husband might desire her to sign. 

This proposal was a very timely one, and filled me with 
great hopes. I have not pestered my readers with many ac- 
counts of my debts and law affairs ; which were by this time so 
vast and complicated that I never thoroughly knew them my- 
self, and was rendered half wild by their urgency. Suffice it 
to say, my money was gone — my credit was done. I was living 
at Castle Lyndon off my own beef, mutton, and the bread, turf, 
and potatoes off my own estate : I had to watch Lady Lyndon 
within, and the bailiffs without. For the last two years, since 
I went to Dublin to receive money, (which I unluckily lost at 
play there, to the disappointment of my creditors,) I did not 
venture to show in that city ; and could only appear at our own 
•county town at rare intervals, and because I knew the sheriffs : 
whom I swore I would murder if any ill chance happened to 
me. A chanpe of a good loan, then, was the most welcome 
prospect possible to me, and I hailed it with all the eagerness 
imaginable. 

In reply to Lady Lyndon’s letter, came, in course of time, an 
answer from the confounded London merchants, stating that 
if her ladyship would confirm byword of mouth, at their count- 
ing-house in Birchin Lane, London, the statement of her letter, 
they, having surveyed her property, would no doubt come to 
terms ; but they declined incurring the risk of a visit to Castle 
Lyndon to negotiate, as they were aware how other respectable 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


272 

parties, such as Messrs, Sharp and Salmon of Dublin, had 
been treated there. This was a hit at me ; but there are cer- 
tain situations in which people can’t dictate their own terms : 
and, 'faith, I was so pressed now for money, that I could have 
signed a bond with Old Nick himself, if he had come provided 
with cwgood round sum. 

I resolved to go and take the countess to London. It was in 
vain that my mother prayed and warned me. “ Depend on it,” 
says she, “ there is some artifice. When once you get into that 
wicked town, you are not safe. Here you may live for years 
and years, in luxury and splendor, barring claret and all the 
windows broken ; but as soon as they have you in London, 
they’ll get the better of my poor innocent lad ; and the first 
thing I shall hear of you will be, that you are in troubled’ 

“ Why go, Redmond ? ” said my wife. u I am happy here, as 
long as you are kind to me, as you are now. We can’t appear 
in London as we ought ; the little money you will get will be 
spent, like all the rest has been. Let us turn shepherd and 
shepherdess, and look to our flocks and be content.” And she 
took my hand and kissed it ; while my mother only said, 
“ Humph ! I believe she’s at the bottom of it — the wicked 
scha7)ier ! ” 

I told my wife she was a fool ; bade Mrs. Barry not be un- 
easy, and was hot upon going : I would take no denial from 
either party. How I was to get the money to go was the ques- 
tion : but that was solved by my good mother, who was always 
ready to help me on a pinch, and who produced sixty guineas 
from a stocking. This was all the ready money that Barry Lyn- 
don, of Castle Lyndon, and married to a fortune of forty thou- 
sand a year, could command : such had been the havoc made 
in this fine fortune by my own extravagance (as I must confess), 
but chiefly by my misplaced confidence and the rascality of 
others. 

We did not start in state, you maybe sure. We did not let 
the country know we were going, or leave notice of adieu with 
our neighbors. The famous Mr. Barry Lyndon and his noble 
wife travelled in a hack-chaise and pair to Waterford, under the 
name of Mr. and Mrs. Jones, and thence took shipping for 
Bristol, where we arrived quite without accident. When a man 
is going to the deuce, how easy and pleasant the journey is ? 
The thought of the money quite put me in a good humor, and 
my wife, as she lay on my shoulder in the post-chaise going te 
London, said it was the happiest ride she had taken since our 
marriage. 


BARR V L YNDON, ESQ. 


2 73 

One night we stayed at Reading, whence I despatched a 
note to my agent at Gray’s Inn, saying I would be with him 
during the day, and begging him to procure me a lodging, and 
to hasten the preparations for the loan. My lady and I agreed 
that we would go to France, and wait there for better times ; 
and that night, over our supper, formed a score of plans both for 
pleasure and retrenchment. You would have thought it was 
Darby and Joan together over their supper. O woman ! wo- 
man ! when I recollect Lady Lyndon’s smiles and blandish- 
ments — how happy she seemed to be on that night ! what an 
air of innocent confidence appeared in her behavior, and what 
affectionate names she called me ! — I am lost in wonder at the 
depth of her hypocrisy. Who can be surprised that an unsus- 
pecting person like myself should have been a victim to such a 
consummate deceiver. 

We were in London at three o’clock, and half-an-hour be- 
fore the time appointed our chaise drove to Gray’s Inn. I 
easily found out Mr. Tapewell’s apartments — a gloomy den it 
was, and in an unlucky hour I entered it ! As we went up'the 
dirty back-stair, lighted by a feeble lamp and the dim sky of a 
dismal London afternoon, my wife seemed agitated and faint. 
“ Redmond,” said she, as we got up to the door, “ don’t go in ; 
I am sure there is danger. There’s time yet ; let us go back — 
to Ireland — anywhere ! ” And she put herself before the door, 
in one of her theatrical attitudes, and took my hand. 

I just pushed her away to one side. “ Lady Lyndon,” said 
I, “you are an old fool ! ” 

“ Old fool ! ” said she ; and she jumped at the bell, which 
was quickly answered by a mouldy-looking gentleman in an un- 
powdered wig, to whom she cried, “ Say Lady Lyndon is here ; ” 
and stalked down the passage muttering “ Old fool.” It was 
“ old ” which was the epithet that touched her. I might call her 
anything but that. 

Mr. Tapewell was in his musty room, surrounded by his 
parchments and tin boxes. Lie advanced and bowed ; begged 
her ladyship to be seated ; pointed towards a chair for me, 
which I took, rather wondering at his insolence ; and then re- 
treated to a side-door, saying he would be back in one moment. 

And back he did come in one moment, bringing with him — - 
whom do you think? Another lawyer, six constables in red 
waistcoats, with bludgeons and pistols, my Lord George Poyn- 
ings and his aunt, Lady Jane Peckover. 

When my Lady Lyndon saw her old flame, she flung herself 
into his arms in an hvsterical passion. She called him her 

iS 


274 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


saviour, her preserver, her gallant knight ; and then, turning 
round to me, poured out a flood of invective which quite aston- 
ished me. 

“ Old fool as I am,” said she, “ I have outwitted the most 
crafty and treacherous monster under the sun. Yes, I 7vas a 
fool when I married you, and gave up other and nobler hearts 
for your sake — yes, I was a fool when I forgot my name and 
lineage to unite myself with a base-born adventurer — a fool to 
bear, without repining, the most monstrous tyranny that evei 
woman suffered ; to allow my property to be squandered ; to see 
women, as base and low-born as yourself *” 

“ For heaven’s sake, be calm ! ” cries the lawyer ; and then 
bounded back behind the constables, seeing a threatening look 
in my eye, which the rascal did not like. Indeed, I could have 
torn him to pieces, had he come near me. Meanwhile, my lady 
continued in a strain of incoherent fury ; screaming against 
me, and against my mother, especially, upon whom she heaped 
abuse worthy of Billingsgate, and always beginning and ending 
the sentence with the word fool. 

“ You don’t tell all, my ladv,” says I, bitterly ; “I said old 
fool.” 

“ I have no doubt you said and did, sir, everything that a 
blackguard could say or do,” interposed little Poynings. “ This 
lady is now safe under the protection of her relations and the 
law, and need fear your infamous persecutions no longer.” 

“ But you are not safe,” roared I ; “ and, as sure as I am a 
man of honor, and have tasted your blood once, I will have 
your heart’s blood now.” 

“ Take down his words, constables : swear the peace against 
him ! ” screamed the little lawyer, from behind his tipstaffs.. 

“ I would not sully my sword with the blood of such a 
ruffian,” cried my lord, relying on the same doughty protection. 
“ If the scoundrel remains in London another day, he will be 
seized as a common swindler.” And this threat indeed made 
me wince ; for I knew that there were scores of writs out against 
me in town, and that once in prison, my case was hopeless. 

“ Where’s the man will seize me ? ” shouted I, drawing my 
sword, and placing my back to the door. “ Let the scoundrel 
come. You — you cowardly braggart, come first, if you have the 
soul of a man ! ” 

“ We’re not going to seize you ! ” said the lawyer ; my lady- 
ship, her aunt, and a division of the bailiffs moving off as he 
spoke. “ My dear sir, we don’t wish to seize you : we will give 
y u a handsome sum to leave the country ; only leave her lady* 
ship in peace ! ” 


BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 


2 75 


“ And the country will be well rid of such a villain ! ” says 
my lord, retreating too, and not sorry to get out of my reach ; 
and the scoundrel of a lawyer followed him, leaving me in pos- 
session of the apartment, and in company of the bullies from 
the police-office, who were all armed to the teeth. I was no 
longer the man I was at twenty, when I should have charged 
the ruffians sword in hand, and have sent at least one of them 
to his account. I was broken in spirit ; regularly caught in the 
toils : utterly baffled and beaten by that woman. Was she re- 
lenting at the door, when she paused and begged me turn back ? 
Had she not a lingering love for me still ? Her conduct showed 
it, as I came to reflect on it. It was my only chance now left 
in the world,, so I put down my sword upon the lawyer’s desk. 

“ Gentlemen,” said I, “I shall use no violence; you may 
tell Mr. Tapewell I am quite ready to speak with him when he 
is at leisure ! ” and I sat down and folded my arms quite peace- 
ably. What a change from the Barry Lyndon of old days ! but, 
as I have read in an old book about Hannibal the Carthaginian 
general, when he invaded the Romans, his troops, which were 
the most gallant in the world, and carried all before them, went 
into cantonments in some city where they were so sated with 
the luxuries and pleasures of life, that they were easily beaten 
in the next campaign. It was so with me now. My strength 
of mind and body were no longer those of the brave youth who 
shot his man at fifteen, and fought a score of battles within six 
years afterwards. Now, in the Fleet Prison, where I write this, 
there is a small man who is always jeering me and making game 
of me ; who asks me to fight, and I haven’t the courage to touch 
him. But I am anticipating the gloomy and wretched events 
of my history of humiliation, and had better proceed in order. 

I took a lodging in a coffee-house near Gray’s Inn ; taking 
care to inform Mr. Tapewell of my whereabouts, and anxiously 
expecting a visit from him. He came and broug* irx the 
terms which Lady Lyndon’s friends proposed — a palny annuity 
of 300/. a year ; to be paid on the condition of my **e maiding 
abroad out of the three kingdoms, and to be stopped on the 
instant of my return. He told me, what I very well new, t K at 
my stay in London would infallibly plunge me in jail ; t^at 
there were writs innumerable taken out against me heie. and in 
the west of England ; that my credit was so blown upon that I 
could not hope to raise a shilling ; and he left me a night to 
consider of his proposal ; saying that, if I refused it, the family 
would proceed : if I acceded, a quarter’s salary should be paid 
to me at any foreign port I should prefer. 


276 


THE MEMOIRS OF 


What was the poor, lonely, and broken-hearted man to do ? 

I took the annuity, and was declared outlaw in the course of 
next week. The rascal Quin had, I found, been, after all, the 
cause of my undoing. It was he devised the scheme for bring- 
ing me up to London ; sealing the attorney’s letter with a seal 
which had been agreed upon between him and the countess 
formerly : indeed he had always been for trying the plan, and 
had proposed it at first; but her ladyship, with her inordinate 
love of romance, preferred the project of elopement. Of these 
points my mother wrote me word in my lonely exile, offering at 
the same time to come over and share it with me ; which pro- 
posal I declined. She left Castle Lyndon a very short time 
after I had quitted it ; and there was silence in that hall where, 
under my authority, had been exhibited so much hospitality and 
splendor. She thought she would never see me again, and 
bitterly reproached me for neglecting her; but she was mis- 
taken in that, and in her estimate of me. She is very old, and 
is sitting by my side at this moment in the prison, working : she 
has a bedroom in Fleet Market over the way ; and, with the 
fifty-pound annuity, which she has kept with a wise prudence, 
we managed to eke out a miserable existence, quite unworthy of 
the famous and fashionable Barry Lyndon. 

Mr. Barry Lyndon’s personal narrative finishes here, for the 
hand of death interrupted the ingenious author soon after the 
period at which the Memoir was compiled ; after he had lived 
nineteen years an inmate of the Fleet Prison, where the prison 
records state he died of delirium tremens. His mother attained 
a prodigious old age, and the inhabitants of the place in her 
time can record with accuracy the daily disputes which used to 
take place between mother and son ; until the latter, from 
habits of intoxication, falling into a state of almost imbecility, 
was tended by his tough old parent as a baby almost, and 
would cry if deprived of his necessary glass of brandy. 

His life on the Continent we have not the means of follow- 
ing accurately; but he appears to have resumed his former pro^ 
fession of a gambler, without his former success. 

He returned secretly to England, after some time, and made 
an abortive attempt to extort money from Lord George Poyn- 
ings, under a threat of publishing his correspondence with Lady 
Lyndon ; and so preventing his lordship’s match with Miss 
Driver, a great heiress, of strict principles, and immense prop- 
erty in slaves in the West Indies. Barry narrowly escaped 
being taken prisoner by the bailiffs who were despatched after 


BARR Y L YNDON. \ ESQ. 


2 77 

him by his lordship, who would have stopped his pension ; but 
his wife would never consent to that act of justice, and, indeed, 
broke with my Lord George the very moment he married the 
West India lady. 

The fact is, the old countess thought her charms were 
perennial, and was never out of love with her husband. She 
was living at Bath ; her property being carefully nursed by her 
noble relatives the Tiptoffs, who were to succeed to it in default 
of direct heirs : and such was the address of Barry, and the 
sway he still held over the woman, that he actually had almost 
persuaded her to go and live with him again ; when his plan 
and hers was interrupted by the appearance of a person who 
had been deemed dead for several years. 

This was no other than Viscount Bullingdon, who started 
up to the surprise of all ; and especially to that of his kinsman 
of the house of Tiptoff. This young nobleman made his ap- 
pearance at Bath, with the letter from Barry to Lord George in 
his hand ; in which the former threatened to expose his con- 
nection with Lady Lyndon — a connection, we need not state, 
which did not reflect the slightest dishonor upon either party, 
and only showe'd that her ladyship was in the habit of writing 
exceedingly foolish letters*; as many ladies, nay, gentlemen, 
have done ere this. For calling the honor of his mother in 
question, Lord Bullingdon assaulted his stepfather (living at 
Bath under the name of Mr. Jones), and administered to him a 
tremendous castigation in the Pump-Room. 

His lordship’s history, since his departure, was a romantic 
one, which we do not feej bound to narrate. He had been 
wounded in the American War, reported dead, left prisoner, 
and escaped. The remittances which were promised him 
were never sent ; the thought of the neglect almost broke 
the heart of the wild and romantic young man, and he deter- 
mined to remain dead to the world at least, and to the mother 
who had denied him. It was in the woods of Canada, and 
three years after the event had occurred, that he saw the death 
of his half-brother chronicled in the Gentleman' s Magaiine , 
under the title of “ Fatal Accident to Lord Viscount Castle 
Lyndon ; ” on which he determined to return to England : 
where, though he made himself known, it was with very great 
difficulty indeed that he satisfied Lord Tiptoff of the authen- 
ticity of his claim. He was about to pay a visit to his lady 
mother at Bath, when he recognized the well-known face of 
Mr. Barry Lyndon, in spite of the modest disguise which that 
gentleman wore, and reyenged upon his person the insults of 
former days. 


2] 8 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. 

Lady Lyndon was furious when she heard of the rencounter ; 
declined to see her son, and was for rushing at once to the 
arms of her adored Barry : but that gentleman had been carried 
off, meanwhile, from jail to jail, until he was lodged in the 
hands of Mr. Bendigo, of Chancery Lane, an assistant to the 
Sheriff of Middlesex ; from whose house he went to the Fleet 
Prison. The sheriff and his assistant, the prisoner, nay, the 
prison itself, are now no more. 

As long as Lady Lyndon lived, Barry enjoyed his income, 
and was perhaps as happy in prison as at any period of his ex- 
istence ; when her ladyship died, her successor sternly cut off 
the annuity ; devoting the sum to charities : which, he said, 
would make a nobler use of it than the scoundrel who had en- 
joyed it hitherto. At his lordship’s death, in the Spanish cam- 
paign, in the year 1811, his estate fell in to the family of the 
Tiptoffs, and his title merged in their superior rank ; but it does 
not appear that the Marquis of Tiptoff (Lord George succeeded 
to the title on the demise of his brother) renewed either the 
pension of Mr. Barry or the charities which the late lord had 
endowed. The estate has vastly improved under his lordship’s 
careful management. The trees in Hackton Park are all about 
forty years old, and the Irish property is rented in exceedingly 
small farms to the peasantry ; who still entertain the stranger 
with stories of the daring, and the devilry, and the wickedness 
and the fall of Barry Lyndon. 


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Woman’s Place To-day. 

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There is no denying that Mrs. Blake has, spartan-like, stood as a break- water 
to the surging flood Rector Dix has cast upon the so-ealled w eaker sex with 
the hope of engulfing it. It is sad to see a gentleman in the position Dr. Dix 
occupies setting himself deliberately at work to not only bring reproach upon 
the female sex, nut to make us all look with comtempt upon our mothers and 
sisters. And the worst of his case is that he has shown that spirit in the male 
part of mankind, which is not at all creditable to it, of depreciating the in- 
tellect, the judgment, the ability and the capability of the female sex in order 
to elevate to a higher plane the male sex. According to Dr. Dix the world 
would be better were there no more female children bom. And he makes 
this argj^anent in the face of the fact that there would be “ hell npon earth ” 
were it not for the influence of women, and such women as Mrs. Lillie Devereux 
Blake, especially.— Albany Sunday Press. 


Mrs. > iake’s was the most interesting and spicy speech of the evening. She 
was in a sparkling mood and hit at everything and everybody that eame to 
her mind.— The Evening Telegram, N. Y. 

A stately lily of a woman, with delicate features, a pair of great gray eyes that 
dilate as she speaks till they light her whole face like two great sort stars.— The 
Independent , N. Y. 

* * + She advanced to the front of the platform, gesticulated gracefully 
and spoke vigorously, defiantly and without notes.— Nexo York Citizen . 

♦ ♦ * a most eloquent and polished oration. The peroration was a grand 
burst of eloquence. — Troy Times. 

Lillie Devereux Blake, blonde, brilliant, staccato, stylish, is a fluent speaker, 
of good platform presence, and argued wittily and well.— Washington Post. 

There are very few speakers on the platform who have the brightness, 
vivacity and fluency of Lillie Devereux Blake. — Albany Swiday Press. 

She is an easy, graceful speaker, and wide-awake withal, bringing oar fre 
quent applause.— Hartford Times . 

Mrs. Blake's address was forcible and eloquent. The speaker was frequently 
interrupted by applause. — New York Times. 

The most brilliant lady speaker in the city.— New York Herald. 

Has the reputation of being the wittiest woman on the platform.— /Sa» An- 
tonio Express. 

Mrs. Blake, who has a most pleasing address, then spoke; a strong vein of 
sarcasm, wit and humor pervaded the lady’s remarks.— Poughkeepsie News. 


For Sale by all Newsdealers and Booksellers 

JOHN W. LOVELL CO., Publishers, 

14 A 10 Vesey Street, New York. 


ct Dr. Newton has had given to him the spiritual 
sense of what people wanted, and this he has rev- 
erently, clearly and definitely furnished.” — Boston 
Herald, March 17. 


THE RIGHT AND WRONG 




ITT 


1 


- H 



By Rev. R. Heber Newton. 


No. 83, “Lovell’s Library,” Paper Covers, 20 Cents; Also 
in Cloth, Red Edges, 75 Cents. 


* 


“ Dr. Newton has not separated his heart from his head in these 
religious studies, and has thus been preserved from the mistakes 
which a purely critical mind might have been led.” — N. Y. Times, 
March 12. 

“Those who wish to abuse Dr. Newton should do so before 
reading his lectures, as, after reading them, they may find it quite 
impossible to do so.” — N, Y. Star, March il. 

“It is impossible to read these sermons without high admiration 
of the author’s courage ; of his honesty, his reverential spirit, his 
wide and careful reading, and his true conservatism .” — American 
Literary Churchman . 

For sale by all Newsdealers and Booksellers. 

JOHN W. LOVELL CO., Publishers, 

14 & 10 Vesey St., New York. 


I 


“ Tt is easy to praise this somewhat, remarkable book , and still easier to 
find fault ivith it. The one thing which it is impossible to do is to ignore 
it .” — New York Times. 


THE MODERN HAGAR, 

A NOVEL, 

By CHARLES !M. O I_i -A/5T, 

New, Revised Edition. 764 Pages. 2Vols. in One. Cloth, $1.50. 

The popular demand for a cheaper and more popular form 
of this book has led the author to so issue it, putting the original 
two volumes into one, and the price at $1.50. The comments of 
the leading journals of the country would seem to justify this step, 
although the work has been before the public but a few months. 
an American rook. 

‘‘The feeble remark is often read that Amen can society and scenes are so 
new that they do not furnish material i<n* a novel, and that this gives the Eng- 
lish novelist a great advantage over ours. . . . The author of The Modern 

Hagar has put all these weaklings to shame by the wealth of American ele- 
ments. . . . His characters and plot embrace army and border-robber and 
Indian life on the frontier; the life of that peculiar aristocracy of landholders 
which grew up in Virginia — as exclusive a class as any aristocracy, and which 
gave to the country some of its greatest statesmen; political life, including 
scenes at the National Convention which nominated Buchanan; incidental 
scenes in Congress, and in thv war; the domestic relation of slavery, domestic 
scenes in the free States, and much more, all woven naturally into the story.” ( 
— Cincinnati Gazette. 

“If there is love for the South, there is no hatred for the North 

Purely American in its equal freedom from the passion which is a disgrace 
to French literature, and from the marrving and giving in marriage without 
which the British novelist would die.”— The Critic , N. Y. 

A NOTABLE ROdDK. 

“ A remarkable one in many ways, and is certain to be read and talked about 
in circles where mere novels receive very little attention .... has un- 
usual breadth and strength.”— New York Tribune. 

“ Or.e of the most notable novels of the year.” — Providence Press. 

“A noble story, written brilliantly, and of undeniable originality and power.” 
—Louisville Coui ier- Journal. 

A GENUINE NOVEL.. 

“Of thrilling, intense interest. . . . Mr. Clay has disclosed a master’s 
power; none but. clean hands and a pure heart could have so brought to light 
the hidden places of a woman’s nature.” — Boston Globe. 

“Full of strong characters and dramatic situations. . . . Throughout 
all is a passionate earnestness which never permits the reader’s attention to 
flag for one moment.”— San Francisco Chronicle. 

Mailed postpaid on receipt of price, by 

JOHN Wo LOVELL CO., 11 & 16 Vescy St., New York. 


IN PRESS.— By tho author of “ THE MODERN 

HAGAR,” 

JOHH WY^PHE’S WIVES. 

1 Vol. 12mo. Paper Covers, 20 Cents. 

JOHIT "W\ 

14 & 16 Vesey Street, New York. 


14 


PROGRESS AMD POVERTY, 


By HENRY GEORGE. 

! Vol. 12mo., large type, neat paper covers, 


.20 



Not mereiy tlic most original, tlio most s trilling and important contributtaa 
Which, political economy has yet received from America, but it is not too much to 
/gay that in these respects it has had no equal since the publication of “ The 'Wealth 
of Nations,” by Adam Smith, a century ago. — New York Herald. 

Few books have in recent years proceeded from any American pen that have 
more plainly borne the marks of wide learning and strenuous thought. — New York 


Sun. 


A masterly book. Mr. George is the only man who has not merely put down 
clearly, in black and white, what are the causes of social disease, but offered a cure. 
— N. Y. Times . 

A courageous thinker, who, though familiar with the learning of the books, 
follows the conclusions of his own reasoning. — New York Tribune. 

If we were asked to name the most important work cf the Nineteenth Century* 
we would name “Progress and Poverty.” — New York lira. 

The first great economic work in the English language* written from the stand- 
point and in the interests of the laboring classes. — Irish World. 

Progress and Poverty beyond any book of our time deserves careful study.— 

Brooklyn Times. 

It has been subjected to the criticisms of the candid and thoughtful, the exact- 
ing and the captious, but all agree that it is an earnest, powerful, courageous and far- 
reaching work. The author has stated his theories with a clearness cf expression, a 
boldness of thought, and an eloquence cf style which have attracted the attention 
cf the most profound philosophers, and the most learned of political economists. — 
Boston Post. 

A book which no public man can afford to omit reading. — Washington Critic. 

The most remarkable book of the century in it3 possible effects upon the course 
of human events. — Charleston News and Courier. 

Every sentence is as clear as a sunbeam; every proposition is as legitimately 
traced to its logical result as one of Euclid's. — Galveston News . 

A trumpet call to a struggle which cannot long be avoided. — Philadelphia Star . 

A bold and frank exposition cf theories now forcing themselves on public 
notice. — Chicago Tribune. 

Earnest, honest and forcible; radical to the root; bold, sweeping and dogmatic. 
— Louisville Courier-Journal. 


JOHN \V. LOVELL COMPANY, Publishers, 


14 & 10 Vesky Street, New York. 


LOVELL’S LIBRARY. 

OATJLLOG-UE. 


85. Shandon Beils, by William Black. 20 

86. Monica, by The Duchess.. 10 

87. Heart and Science, by Wilkie Col- 

lins 20 

88. The Golden Calf, by Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

89. The Dean’s Daughter, by Mrs. 

Gore 20 

90. Mrs. Geoffrey, by The Duchess.. 20 

91. Pickwick Papers, Part 1 20 

Pickwick Papers, Part II 20 

92. Airy Fa ry Lilian, by The Duchess. 20 

93. McLeod of Dare, by Wm. Black. 20 

94. Tempest Tossed, by Tilton, P’tl.20 
Tempest Tossed, by Tilton, P’tII.20 


95. Letters from High Latitudes, by 

Lord Dufferin 20 

96. Gideon Fleyce, by Henry W. Lucy. 20 

97. India and Ceylon, by E. Hteckle. .20 

98. The Gypsy Queen, by Hugh De 

Normnnd 20 

99. The Admiral’s Ward, by Mrs. 

Alexander 20 

100. Nimport, by E. L. Bynner, P’t I. .15 
Nimport, byE. L. Bynner, P’t II. . 15 

101. Harry Holbrooke, by Sir H. Ran- 

dall Roberts. . 20 

102. Tritons, by E. Lasseter Bynner, 

Parti 15 

Tritons, by E. Lasseter Bynner, 

Part II. 15 

103 Let Nothing You Dismay, by Wal- 
ter Besant 10 

104. Lady Audley’s Secret, by Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

105. Woman’s Place To-Day, by Mrs. 

Lillie Devereux Blake 20 

106. Dunallan, by Kennedy, Part I... 15 
Dunallan, by Kennedy, Part II.. 15 

107. Housekeeping and Home-Making, 

by Marion Harland 15 

108. No New Thing, by W. E. Norris.. 20 

109. The SpoopendykePapers, by Stan- 

ley Huntley 20 

110. False Hopes, by Goldwin Smith.. 15 

111. Labor and Capital, by Edward 

Kellogg 20 

112. Wanda, by Ouida, Part I .15 

Wanda, by Ouida, Part II 15 

113. More Words About the Bible, by 

Rev. Jas. S. Bush .20 

114. Monsieur Lecoq, by Gaboriau, P’t I 20 
MonsieurLecoq,byGaboriau,P’t 11.20 

115. An Outline of Irish History, by 

Justin H. McCarthy 10 

116. The Lerouge Case, by Gaboriau . . 20 

117. Paul Clifford, by Lord Lytton... 20 

118. A New Lease of Life, by About.. 20 

119. Bourbon Lillies 20 

120. Other Peoples’ Money, by Emile 

Gaboriau 20 

121. TheLadyof Lyons, byLord Lytton.10 

122. Ameline de Bourg.... 15 


123. A Sea Queen, by W. Clark Russell . 20 

124. The Ladies Lindores, by Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

125. Haunted Hearts, by J. P. Simpson. 10 

126. Loys, Lord Beresford, by The 

Duchess 20 

127. Under Two Flags, by Ouida, P’t 1.20 
Under Two Flags, by Ouida,P’t 11.20 

128. Money, by Lord Lytton 10 

129. In Peril of His Life, by Gaboriau. 20 

130. India, by Max Muller 20 

131. Jets and Flashes 20 

132. Moonshine and Marguerites, by 

The Duchess. 10 

133. Mr. Scarborough’s Family, by 

Anthony Trollope, Part 1 15 

Mr. Scarborough's Family, by 
Anthony T^ol^ope, Part II 15 

134. Arden, by A. Mary F. Roberts... 15 

135. The Tower of Percemont, by 

George Sand 20 

136. Yolande, by Wm. Black 20 

137. Cruel London, by Joseph Hatton. 20 

138. The Gilded Clique, by Gaboriau. ..20 

139. Pike County Folks, by E. H. Mott.. 20 

140. Cricket on the Hearth, byDickens.10 

141. Henry Esmond, by Thackeray 20 

142. Strange Adventures of a Phaeton, 

by Wm. Black 20 

143. Denis Duval, by W. M. Thackeray. 10 

144. Old Curiosity Shop, by Charles 

Dickens, Part 1 15 

Old Curiosity Shop, by Charles 
Dickens, Part II 15 

145. Ivanhoe, by Scott, Part 1 15 

Ivanhoe, by Scott, Part II 15 

146. White Wing*, by Wm. Black 20 


147. The Sketch Book, by Irving. .. .’20 

148. Catherine, by W. M. Thackeray 10 

149. Janet’s Repentance, by Eliot 10 

150. Barnaby Rudge, Dickens Part 1.15 
Barnaby Rudge, Dickens P't 11.15 

157. Felix Hoit, by George Eliot . .20 

152. Richelieu, by Lord Lytton 10 

153. Sunrise, by Wm. Black Part I.. .15 
Sunrise, by Win. Black Part II. . 15 

154. Tour of the World in 80 Days 20 | 

155. Mystery of Orcival, Gaboriau ...20 ! 
150. Lovel, The Widower, by W. M. 

Thackeray 10 

157. The Romantic Adventures of a 

Milkmaid, by Thos. Hardy 10 

158. David Gopperfield. Parti 20 

David Copperfield, Part II 20 

159. Charlotte Temple, 10 

160. Rienzi, byLord Lytton, Part I M0 
Rienzi, by Lord Lytton, Part II .10 

161. Promise of Marriage, Gaboriau. .25 

162. Faith and Unfaith, The Duchess 15 

163. The Happy Man, Samuel Lover. 10 

164. Barry Lyndon, by Thackeray. . .20 

165. Eyre’s Acquittal, Helen Mathers 10 

166. 20.000 Leagues under the Sea, by 

— .. Y e .I. n ^ uua 


I 


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